I Am John's Mind (Reprise)
by elfin


I believe it now.  I've been rescued.  Michael rescued me.

It explains the hurry, the firefights, the shuttle.  It explains everything and yet it took me this long to believe it.  Stephen... he shaved my beard off.  He did it to convince me I was safe.  And Jack's here - they couldn't know about Jack.

Opening my eyes carefully, looking into the dim light of this room they're keeping me in, I see Stephen sitting next to me.  I knew someone was there - they hold my thumb on my left hand.  I think it must be the only bit of me that isn't damaged in some way.  Susan and Jack sit in the exact same place.

And I think... Michael's been here too.  I can't be sure, I haven't seen him but I've... smelt him.  I don't mean that in a bad way!  But I know his scent better than the others'.  A long time ago it seems, I used to fall asleep next to him and wake up with my head on his shoulder.  He loved to hold me like that...

Huh.  More tears.  I can't seem to stop them at the moment.  They come without warning and although Stephen's told me it's a neurological thing, I hate being this weak. 

Those men didn't break me.  I was strong enough to hold on, at least... I think I was.  Still, I don't feel as if I could fight a child right now, never mind Clarke's goons.  Never mind legends. 

Blinking away the tears I try for a smile for my doctor, the man I know has fought against everything they did to keep me alive.  I can feel my lips crack with the movement and I watch as he reaches for the small tube on one of the trays.

He asks me - since those first terrible hours when I arrived, he's always asked me - if I want to put the Vaseline on myself.  I can't.  I can't lift my hands to my face and if I could... all my fingers are either bandaged or in braces.  But I appreciate the sentiment, Doc. 

When he applies it, his finger is so light and he's quick, like he's worried about touching me like this.  I know it's all for my sake.  I've seen him do this for patients unable to do it for themselves.  I think he knows most of what they did to me and he's worried about the effect it's had on me.

You and me both, Stephen.  Scared shitless, my friend.

Now he's offering me the straw in the ever-present beaker of water beside the bed.  I can lift my head enough to take small sips and he gives me all the time I need and waits for me to lie back down again before he replaces the beaker.

"John, I have to tell you something."  Uhho.  "It's not going to be easy to hear but you need to know."  Oh, God.  What?  I think he's going to tell me something's missing, that he's had to remove something... a kidney?  Anything else and I wouldn't be here, would I?  Not a limb, certainly.  I've checked and everything's still....  "It's about Garibaldi."

Michael.  I feel my heart start to pound, my pulse racing.  And almost immediately the machines all around me start to beep their warnings.

"Hey, hey, it's okay."  Stephen's leaning in now, holding my thumb tightly.  "He got you out and he's still aboard.  He's going anywhere.  It's about why.  About the last year and everything he's done."  Shaking his head, he says, "It's about Bester."

Bester?  What the hell has that psycho psi-cop got to do with anything?

But Stephen's answering that question, telling me everything.  And he's right, it's so fucking hard to listen to.  Because I know now who's to blame for me ending up in Clarke's hands, ending up in this state.

I am.

I can feel more tears springing up in my eyes as he says, "I'm so sorry.  I had to tell you, I need you to know because he's spent time sitting here with you when you've been sleeping.  He wanted to be here now but I thought it best if I told you.  I know how much you're hurting right now, I know what they did to you and I know how difficult it's going to be for you to forgive him."

Oh, God, Stephen.  It won't be hard to forgive him.  It's myself I can't forgive!  Those damned tears are sliding over my cheek, itching and hot.  But they're for Michael, not for me.  That bastard, Bester.  If I ever - ever - see him again and I'm in reach of a PPG, I am going to blow his telepath brain inside out.

Stephen's still speaking softly. 

"I'm here for you, along with Susan and Jack, and whether you want him or not, Michael is too."

I want him!  I've wanted him every second of every minute of every hour of every shitty day of this last year and he hasn't been there. 

Now I know why.

We were so close!  I loved him so much!  I thought - no, I know - he loved me back.

I take a deep breath to try to stem the tide of this sickening guilt.  I can't look at Stephen anymore and I close my eyes.

I feel him rest his hand on the crown of my head and for a time I concentrate on that, on his thumb moving slowly, back and forth through my hair.  It's incredibly comforting and I think he knows that.  He's the only one that does it but I like it.  After the beatings, the torture, the... the rapes... it's just good to have someone touch me gently, almost lovingly.

I won't deny I need the contact.

He is the most patient man I've ever met.  He keeps up the stroking of my hair for a long, long time, not saying any more.  I can't hear anything more right now. 

I know the stress of what's he's told me on my system is too much.  I can feel the exhaustion like it's touching my very soul.  And eventually I have to give in to it and sleep because as much as I want to ask him to find Michael, I can't. 

I can't speak.

I don't know how to.



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