Summary: John comes to Helen to comfort her, but Helen turns it into something more.
Disclaimer: I don't own them; just messing around and… well I was just playing around.
Pairing: John/Helen
Stopping the World:
John could feel Helen's pain, he didn't know how but he felt it as if someone had shoved a knife into his heart and twisted. He knew some of the pain he was feeling, his daughter was now in Cabal hands. He hadn't been much of a father, the madness that drove his actions wouldn't allow him to be, but now he had a chance to be there for Helen, and he wasn't going to ruin his chance. He needed to be there for Helen, he needed to be the man she deserved. More than anything, John wanted to be the one to give her comfort. Once she had given him life, given him peace and clarity of spirit to the point that all he saw was her and her alone. She had saved him before his abilities had gone out of control, made him do things beyond his control.
John took his time walking to where he knew Helen to be, he could feel her, her pain like a cord pull him to her. Every step, every stride seemed to take forever. She was in pain and he felt the knife move a little more, just a sharp twist and jerk. John could no longer stand the long walk. He used his gift to take him to Helen's side.
She was there in the dark sitting on the side of her bed. John could see her back stiffen, she knew he was there, but she said nothing. All he could hear were her muffled sobs and sniffles. Anger, disbelief, pain, and sorrow were running high through out Sanctuary, Helen felt them more than any other. From where John was standing he could see her fists clenched in the bed spread. Taking a deep breath John moved into the moon light that flooded her room so he could stand in front of her, so he could show her that he was there for her.
Helen heard him when he entered her room, she wanted to tell him to get out, but she didn't have the strength. Helen felt if she spoke, the dam would break and every pent up emotion she had flying around in her brain would come pouring out in a flood of tears. John was the last person who she wanted to see her tears, her weakness, but he was the person she wanted the most to hold her and tell her it would be ok, that everything would work out, and that they would bring their daughter home.
She breathed in, her body shuddering, grief wanted to pour out of her, but she kept it in check. Helen had to keep herself in check if she was going to get Ashley back. A shadow fell over her, taking the moonlight off of her, John stood before her. She didn't have the heart to look at him. But that didn't stop him from cupping her face and turning her face up to look at him. She knew she had tears in her eyes and she knew that he could see them. At any moment they would fall and John would be only the one to wipe the away. Helen tried to look at anything but him, but he was right there, right there being her rock.
John released her face and crouched down in front of her. He rested his arms on either side of her thighs and just watched her struggle to keep herself composed, it was a hard battle but she was holding herself together. John kept quiet, letting her chose to speak or not. He just wanted to be there for her. She needed someone to be there, even if it was him. So, John was there for her, mapping every line of her face. A silent tear, her silent tear, fell just as soon as John reached his hand up to cup her cheek. Wiping it away Helen broke, her heart plummeted and her tears flooded down her cheeks. She leaned forward and instead of falling into his arms like a broken heap Helen kissed John, her lips moving over his slowly.
Helen knew it was wrong to be kissing him, but she didn't want to feel pain, she wanted it to stop, she wanted everything to stop. At one time John had made her world stop, everything faded away when he was with her. Now, she wanted to feel that again. Leaning back on the bed Helen pulled John with her, keeping his lips to hers. Just for a moment she wanted the world to stop. Helen wanted to forget about Ashley, James dying, and the fact that she hated herself. She hated herself for not planning better, not seeing all the angles. For right now John was stopping her world, making it so she didn't have to think.
"Helen…"
"Make it stop." Helen whispered through slowly heated kisses. She wanted this, in this moment John was her answer. Everything else faded away and it was only her and him in her bed.
"You… have to… stop." John managed to say between Helen's lips against his. He wasn't sure what she was doing, but he was sure that she would hate herself later for it. John wanted to be with her like this, but Helen was not thinking with a clear head, she was in pain and she was looking for a quick fix.
Helen pulled back, cupping his face, just staring at him, "I want you to make the world stop. I need you, John, to make the world stop. Just make it stop… please."
"You will hate yourself in the morning, and you will hate me more for letting you." John stated, he knew her, and he knew how she would feel. He stood up and crossed the short distance to the open window. The heavy curtains were pushed to either side so the entire view was unobstructed. Moon light filtered in casting glows and making shadows, but John didn't see any of it. His mind was cluttered with Helen, with the scent of her, the taste of her, and what she had just done. It tore at him that he walked away, that he left her there on the bed when she needed help, but the help she wanted was the kind of help that he couldn't and wouldn't give to her.
He felt her come to him, wrap her arms around him, and pillow her head on his shoulder blade. John's heart broke, with Helen's simple gesture, she broke his heart, shattered it into a million pieces. He supposed it was cosmic irony, fates cruel twisted humor, John had nearly destroyed Helen once, and now with her wrapped around him, he was feeling destroyed. Inch by slow inch Helen was taking his strength and making it harder for him to leave. Slowly John reached his hands up and covered Helen's with his.
Helen could feel the internal struggle being waged within John. She knew what he was asking from him was too much. He was shuddering, like she had been earlier. John turned in her arms, looked into her eyes, and shattered. Right there in his eyes she saw his resolve break. He leaned his head down and closed his lips over hers, gently, pleading for her to open and let him comfort her. His taste was something she would never forget, and now she could have it again, if only for tonight.
John leaned down over Helen and picked her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist while he took her back to the bed. Two short strides and they were there, John and Helen were on the bed. He set her down and untangled himself for a brief moment, looking down at her; he saw pain and sorrow, and anger, with the slightest hint of love. He knew he still loved her, but John didn't know if Helen still loved him. Seeing that faint spark gave him hope, and the resolve to see this through, if she needed comfort then he would give it to her. Backing away from her, John pulled pillows and blanket off the bed and placed them in front of her fireplace. Arranging them he held out his hand to her and waited. Everything that was about to happen now, it had to be Helen's choice.
Helen sat on the side of the bed and watched John as he held out his hand to her. For a split second she thought about telling him to leave, that this was a bad idea, but she wanted him, wanted what they had once shared. Taking a deep breath, she rose from the side of the bed and placed her hand in his. For a moment she stared at him and then sank down to the pile he had made. If she thought about it then she would back out, and she really wanted him to make her feel better, she needed it and so did John. Taking a breath Helen set her fingers to the buttons of her shirt, but John stopped her and instead he slowly undid every single one.
John felt Helen's hand shake as she unbuttoned every one of his shirt buttons, she sucked in a breath when she saw the electro-shock scars that Nikola had given him, that didn't deter her. Helen kissed him slowly, trailed her lips over his jaw, and down his neck, where she nipped and tasted his skin. She kissed each mark, gently, soothing the hurt that Nikola caused. Fisting her hands in his shirt she took it off his shoulders, down his arms, and tossed it some where. Helen brought her lips back up to his and dragged him down on top of her. He couldn't believe this was happening; Helen was here with him, being with him, allowing him to soothe her pain. John slipped his hands under the fabric of her shirt and pushed the material off her shoulder, just as she had done to him. Where his hands touched, shivers rippled beneath her skin. Her back arched so he could push the rest of the shirt off of her body.
John rested his weight on his forearms and looked down at her. Her bare skin glowed in the darkness and tears streaked down her face, tears that were shed over Ashley's unwilling betrayal. Pain burned in her eyes and coupled with the beginnings of lust, desire, and heat. It was only his body that she wanted, she wanted the release, and she wanted the world to stop. John would give her this, she would not hate him in the morning, no, he would hate himself instead. But self hate he could live with if it meant making Helen feel better, making her pain less. He settled his weight down on her, slowly sinking into her warmth, taking her lips and linking their hands. Her knees locked around his hips and cradled him close to her.
Helen sensed John's hesitation, but still he gave to her, gave her what she needed as she unlaced her fingers from his so she could remind herself what he felt like. Her fingers dug into his flesh, lightly, but demanding and insistent. She was intent on making her world stop, just for tonight. Stroking her hands down his back Helen encountered the waist band of his pants and belt. Her hands trembled, but soon steadied as she reached for the front closure of the belt. He stopped her, instead leaving a trail of sweet, light, torturous kisses down the side of her neck, over her collar bone, and down to the edge of her slacks. Shivers broke out along her skin wherever his lips touched her. She was burning alive.
John was drowning in the taste of her, the feel of her. It was like it used to be. They were together in this moment, being a burning flame of passion. His hand rested over the button of her slack, he waited, but she didn't say stop. Snap! Zip! The sound echoed through the darkness but did not still them. John used both of his hands to slide the fabric of her pants down her long, luxurious legs, legs he had used to fantasize about. He kissed his was down, following the slide of fabric, making sure to keep the fire burning all over her. Her light gasps were music to his ears. He sat up and slid her pants off the rest of the way. John took a moment to admire her in all black, the black of her shirt, the black of her pants, and the black of her underwear, making her skin look like living alabaster. Fire coursed through his body, heating his blood, burning his desire to new heights.
Helen felt as if she were on fire, an inferno was raging deep in her belly keeping her from feeling anything but lust and desire. She wanted John, needed him with such a fever that all she could see was him, all she could feel was him. His lips on her stomach, travelling down her leg and back up again. She could feel his lips nipping and kissing the inside of her thigh, nearing her center. Another nip and the passion shot straight to her brain, moans and whimpers fell from her lips locking them in a bubble that was pure want and need. Helen bit her bottom lip when John's hand slowly traveled up her stomach and worked the front closure of her bra. The clasp gave way under is skilled fingers. Moving the fabric aside with his hand he massaged the heated flesh, working the nipple to a hardened peak. All she could do was moan and endure. Helen rested her hands on his shoulders and signaled him to move up; she wanted to taste his lips again, needed to feel his weight lying over her.
John kissed his way up her body, stopping to place a light, innocent kiss over her heart, and heart that used to love him, the heart he had destroyed. Now it was only her body that wanted him, so he let her have him. He lowered himself slowly down on to her and took her mouth again while he let his mind travel back to a time when they used to be happy, but his mind was pulled back into his body when Helen's hands started to remove his pants. John had to keep in control, even when she was doing her best to make him lose it. Fire burned in him and settled low in his groin, swelling him to a new size, demanding relief. He ached to be inside her, to feel the friction, wanting release and the euphoria that comes with a shared fulfillment. Right now all he had to do was concentrate on her lips and her hands, hands that were inciting his body to riot. He feasted at her mouth, drank down her moans, and endured when she nipped at his bottom lip, while his hands busied themselves removing her bra from her shoulders. John had to feel her, had to have her, and had to taste her. Her lips were not enough. John wanted more.
Helen had endured enough of John's sensual torment, it was time she inflicted some of her own. Reversing their positions she took charge. Helen set to work driving him mad with pleasure by using her teeth, tongue, lips, and hands. She drove him to heights of pleasure, turning into wicked desire and passionate lust. Her nails scraped lightly, so lightly, down his chest and over his nipple tearing a shuddering gasp from his mouth. Descending her lips quickly soothed and inflamed all at once. She placed a kiss to each burn mark, faded as they were, Helen could still see them and it was enough for her to repeat the gesture she had done earlier. She felt as John flexed his fingers trying to keep from over powering her and taking her until he was satisfied. Only a little while longer would he have to endure her sweet torture, just a little while longer. As John had done earlier, Helen trailed kisses, light and wicked, down his chest, over his abs, and on down while she dragged his pants off. When she traveled back up his body, Helen moved as slow as possible so he could feel the softness of her body, the heat from her skin. He groaned and Helen smiled an impish smile. Settling over his waist she cupped the back of his neck and gently pulled him into a sitting position. She locked her legs around him and took his mouth again in a hot demanding kiss. Helen knew what was to come but she wanted to delay that moment of shear and utter completion, just for a while longer.
John brought his hands up and danced his fingers up and down her spine, slightly tickling her but fanning the fire that burned brighter and brighter with every passing second. His left hand locked in her hair and anchored her mouth to his while his right hand ran down her spine, traced the edge of the only article of clothing she had on her, her underwear. Dipping below the band John slid his index finger into her waiting heat. She was wet, so wet, and she was ready for him, but he held him self in some sort of check, it had to be her time and her choice to proceed. Two thrusts with his fingers had Helen moaning into his mouth, she raised up enough, just enough for John to move aside the thin scrap of lace and enter her. Time seemed to freeze. Helen locked gazes with John, and in slow motion she slowly took him into her heated depths, adjusting to the feel of him. Friction sent fireworks shooting through his blood and to his brain. John still had one hand in her hair when the other came up to join it; he needed something to hold on to.
Helen felt she would burst into flames, spontaneous combustion. John was pure ecstasy sliding into her, the friction was amazing. He was larger than she remembered but the extra added to the glorious feeling coursing though her. She settled fully on him and dragged in a ragged breath. Their heavy breathing replaced the moans and gasps from earlier. Leaning forward Helen locked her arms closer around John's neck, resting her temple to his; she began to move, slow at first and then steadily increasing in speed. The burn of completion started to build within her. Up and down Helen moved, her heart beat speeding up and her blood pumping faster.
John could feel the pure pleasure running through Helen; it was a mirror of his own. He switched their positions once again, taking them to the floor where he was on top and driving into her in short, deep thrusts that took her breath away. Untangling his hands John took her left hand in his right, lacing their fingers while he took them higher and higher. He could feel it getting closer and closer, the fire traveled from his blood and coiled into a tight ball low in his gut. It got tighter and tighter and when Helen spilled over in that one instant of pure, undiluted pleasure, then and only then did John join her. Her muscles clenched down on him rippling with the pleasure of release, she was milking him for all he had and he didn't care. All his strength fled his body and John found himself lying on top of Helen, taking the warmth and comfort she offered for now.
Helen shuddered under John; the power of her release sapped her strength and stole her breath. She had asked him to stop the world and he had in one single act of glorious sex. He was still joined with her, as he shifted he set of small aftershocks causing fireworks to break out through her nerve endings. Her inner muscles rippled and clamped down on him, keeping him close to her. She needed to have him stay with her, for a little while longer. Helen felt like a live wire connecting to a circuit with John. Her body was loose, and devoid of that soul deadening pain she had felt before he touched her.
John had no power over his body; he lay in Helen's sweet embrace listening to his heart race. His breathing was ragged and his muscles had no strength to move. Everywhere his skin touched to hers felt like tiny sparks igniting between them causing pleasure to pour through him again. Helen's arms draped over his shoulders and she sighed while a single tear fell from John's eye and fell onto her skin. One hand cupped his cheek and moved so that her eyes could look into his. John slowly fell to the side, taking her with him; he didn't want to break contact with her. This would be worth the heart ache he would feel later. He slipped into a blissful unconsciousness with Helen at his side, her warmth seeping into him.
MORNING:
John woke to an empty space beside him. He had a moment of panic before he spotted Helen standing in front of the window, wrapped in a blanket. The sun streamed in and bathed her in a warming glow. John leaned back on his forearms to watch her. To him, she looked like a goddess. As if sensing his eyes on her, Helen turned and offered a faint smile tinged with sadness. She came to him and once again curled into his side, pillowing her head on his chest, drapping her arm over his stomach, and tangling her right leg with his.. "Where does this leave us?" The question reverberated on the air around them. John kissed the top of her head, but he had no answers to give her.
"John, where do we… Where do we go from here?" Helen asked.
"I have no answers for you. What would you like me to say?" John murmured.
"Tell me that it will all work out, that Ashley will come home," Helen began, 'Tell me that you will stay with me, stay sane.' She thought, she wanted to tell him to tell her that, but she would not let the words form on her tongue. Helen didn't want to be in pain over him again. She was tired of hating him, 120 years was long enough to hate, to regret, and to be sad. Enough was enough, she was going to do what she had to do to be happy, and to ensure that their child came home.
"Everything your heart desires will work out." John whispered, once again lightly kissing the top of her head. Soon, too soon, they would be dragged from their haven, back into the real world, and the search for Ashley would begin.