Great Bear 2/3 Author: Feedback: Yes please! Email: Web Page: http://www.squidge.org/~surrealarts/Annex.html Category: Slash, Langly/Byers Rating: NC/17 Spoilers: minor for Maximum Byers and First Person Shooter Disclaimer: Not mine, etc Archive: Lone Slasher, Basement, WWOMB, Gossamer, Ephemeral; anywhere else, just ask Summary: Post-ep for Diagnosis Jimmy: angst on the journey back to Washington The next morning when I woke up he was gone. His overnight bag was already packed and sitting on the floor by the door. I figured he must be talking to Mel or something, so I got dressed ASAP and went along to Mel's room. They were just coming out the door together. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept much after all. There were dark shadows under his eyes and his mouth was tight. But that wasn't what worried me. It was the way he looked at me - or rather, he *didn't* look at me. Wouldn't meet my eyes. Usually in the morning he'll smile, even give me a quick kiss and hug as long as no-one else is around. Not any more. Just a quick flicking glance at me, a brief nod and "hi" - like I was nobody special. Like he didn't want me around. All my guilt and shame from yesterday came flooding back. He'd remembered what I did, how I let him down. Mel noticed it too, looked from one to the other of us, but obviously told himself it was none of his business. He usually does that, unless we're out right fighting. He looked back at John again, frowning slightly, and started to tell me what they'd decided. Mel was going to stay on till Jimmy got out of the hospital, just a few more days, then they would fly back to DC together. We figured it would be easier on Jimmy that way, his insurance would pay for the flight, he deserved it. He needed someone with him and it was obvious that should be Mel. Mel doesn't handle these long days on the road any more, either. But it meant that John and me drew the short straw for the road trip. I couldn't believe my luck. A few days alone together without distractions or spectators - we hadn't had that for years, not in all the time we'd been together. Only it wasn't turning out like I expected. No way. ===000=== The whole of that first day, he hardly spoke to me at all. We were driving east, through Washington State, higher and higher into the mountains. I like the mountains, love the space. Kinda unexpected for a computer geek who spends all his life in a basement, but I do. So it would have been perfect, if John had been speaking to me. He just sat all morning in the van next to me, staring out the window. I kept trying to get him talking, babbling about anything and everything that came into my head. I know I talk too much at the best of times, the mental state I was in I was ten times worse. I just needed to fill the silence, to hear the sound of my own voice to stop me thinking. But it was like I was more aware of him than ever before. I was conscious of him sitting next to me in the van, every breath he took, every small movement he made, every small sound he made. I could swear I could feel the warmth of his body even though we were a foot apart. I couldn't stop thinking about how he had made love to me the night before, how he'd taken control and dominated me in a way he'd never done before. I kept on sneaking little sideways glances at him, hoping he would turn his head and look at me and in a way praying that he wouldn't because I knew I would blush like a school kid with a crush. I was like almost shy with him. About mid morning we stopped for coffee, at a small town high in the mountains that was little more than a scatter of hotels catering for skiers, and a few small souvenir shops. We found a coffee shop with a terrace looking out over the valley, and sat looking out at the view. I was really nervous by now. But I knew I had to take a chance. "John, what's wrong?" He looked sideways at me, frowning. "What?" I couldn't look at him. I stared in front of me, out of the window. In front of us were the mountains, beautiful, remote, cold. I shivered. "I know you're mad at me because of yesterday. I wanted to say . . I'm sorry. I let you down and I know that's why you can't even look at me. I . . . I . . "What?" He grabbed my shoulder and turned me, it, forcing me to look at him. "Ringo, what in hell are you talking about? What about yesterday?" "In the warehouse, when Stukas had you ... I should have done something but I didn't. I screwed up, John, I should've helped you but I froze. I ... god, you must hate me-" "Hate you-?" His hand dropped off my arm and he turned away. I couldn't look at him either, and stared out of the window again. The mountains were suddenly blurred and I blinked the tears away. "Ringo, I'm not blaming you. Is that what this is all about? You think you did something wrong?" I just stood there, knowing that if I tried to speak I wouldn't be able to control my voice. He got up and started pacing, the way he does when he's really, really worried. "It's just - " he came and stood in front of me, looking deep into my eyes. "I can't explain here. We'll talk about it later." "But-" He shook his head, sighing impatiently. "Ringo, this is nothing to do with you. I'm not mad at you, okay? I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at *me*". "But -" He cut me off. "I don't want to talk about it here. C'mon, let's get back to the van." He walked out of the coffee shop, leaving me standing staring after him. ===000=== It was as I walked back to the van that I saw it, in the window of a little souvenir shop next to the parking lot. The minute I saw it I knew I had to buy it for John. The sales assistant explained all about it. "Beautiful, isn't it? They're made by a local Native American, an old guy lives in a cabin halfway up a mountain outside of town. They say he prays every time he picks up his tools to work." The assistant wrapped it carefully for me and I slipped it into my backpack where John wouldn't find it. But I didn't know when I was going to get the opportunity to give it to him. As a peace offering? A love gift? A "please forgive me" bribe? ===000=== It was getting dark by the time we found a motel for the night and checked in. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if he wanted separate rooms, but I stopped myself in time. As we got our bags from the van and locked it for the night, I saw him pause and look up at the stars, like he was looking for something. I still felt uneasy with him. "What ya looking for?" "Which way is North . . . ah, yes, there. Look, Ree. The Great Bear." Being born on a farm, I knew the stars pretty well once. Yeah, there was the Big Dipper standing on its end, and the rest of the Great Bear climbing up into the sky. Living in DC, you forget to look up at the stars. But out here, you can look up and wonder. What is out there, who is out there? I looked at him standing beside me, his face turned up to the stars, and all the hope and wonder was back in his face. He caught me looking at him, and his face shut down again. "I'm tired, how about you?" I followed him into our room. ===000=== We'd grabbed a pizza earlier, at another small town we passed through, so all I wanted to do now was just get under a hot shower and then into bed. I'd been thinking all afternoon about what John had said. "We'll talk later." The more I thought about that the more scared I got. He'd good as admitted something was wrong and we needed to talk. But now we had the time, I was scared to death about what he might say. So I headed into the shower first chance I got, wondering if he would come in after me and we'd end up showering together - that usually ends pretty good, if you know what I mean. No such luck, and when I came out he was sprawled on the bed watching the TV. He hardly looked at me, just switched off with the remote and hauled himself off the bed, and walked straight past me into the bathroom. I crawled into bed and switched the TV back on again, it was The Weakest Link with that English bitch whose voice always reminds me of Yves. I started to think about Yves again and how she'd managed to save our butts. If she hadn't called in the RCMP . . . John with the knife at his throat . . . I started to go over it again in my mind, the scenes flashing through my head, seeing him again facing down Stukas. I shivered, partly with remembered fear and partly . . I suddenly realised WHY I kept coming back to that scene. It turned me on. It turned me on, to realise that THIS man, this ordinary unassuming guy who nobody usually looks at twice, who everyone underestimates, has the courage and resoucefulness of any ten other guys. And . . he's mine. My lover. I wanted him so much. But he didn't seem to want me any more. ===000=== I decided to have one more try to get him to talk. I waited till he came back into the bedroom, turned out all the lights except the small one over the bed and got in beside me. "So, are we gonna talk or what?" He didn't answer. "John, you said today we'd talk later about what was bugging you. So talk. You said you thought it was your fault?" I thought for a while he wasn't going to answer. Then he started to talk, in a soft voice only just above a whisper. "I nearly got us all killed, okay? First of all by dragging us all out here anyway on this selfish self-appointed *mission*, thinking I could actually DO something to make a difference, I think I can go charging in like some kind of white knight and put everything right, and all that happens is that Jimmy ends up in the hospital and WE all get caught, thanks to me again, and we would all have been killed if it hadn't been for Yves saving our butts again. So yes, Ringo, I am mad at me and you should be too." "Hey, hold on a minute. That DIDN'T happen, did it? We're all okay, and we WON. We won double. We put Stukas out of business and we put Bellucci behind bars. And okay, Jimmy's in the hospital but he's gonna be fine, and if he wasn't there we'd never have caught Bellucci. So we did good, John. I don't understand why you're beating yourself up." He rolled over on his side to look at me better. "I was scared, Ree. I was so scared, I knew that Stukas would work it out that I couldn't be there alone, he'd get the other guys to search the building and they'd find you and Mel, and we'd all get our throats cut and it would be my fault for dragging us into this . . . I nearly got you killed, Ree, that's what I keep thinking. I keep seeing Stukas putting that knife into your throat, and the blood . ." He sat up, putting his folded arms on his knees and his head down on them. "I've been thinking about it all the time, I could have got us all killed, and I'm so angry with myself, it makes me sick just to think about it." I pulled at him until he lay down again beside me. Close to him now, I suddenly realised he was shaking. Oh God . . I curled myself closer to him. "Let me help." He turned over, facing me. "Sorry." "S'okay." I slid an arm over his torso, feeling the deep trembling in his body. "I want to help. Don't shut me out." He put a hand out tentatively, stroking my arm. I pulled him closer and he came gratefully, for comfort, for warmth. He clung to me, holding tight, shaking. I held him while he wept, trying to give him the reassurance he needed. I stroked his hair, whispering to him. "It's all right, it's over" till he slept. I went on holding him for a long time, still talking softly to him, telling him the things I never dared to when he was awake. "I'm so proud of you . . . do you know how much I love you?" Continued in Part 3