A/N: There is just not enough Joeliana in the world. I started this about a year ago, I think anyway, left it alone for a few months and then came back to it a few weeks ago. I did some editing and a little re-writing and I actually like it now.

*SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2*

"What about Juliana Crain?" I ask, changing the topic, but failing to keep the anger out of my voice.

Those men had families, children! And John Smith just dismissed and killed them like they were less than human. Because they were different, and doing something illegal to try to survive and feed their families.

"Oh, she's dead."

That knocks the wind outta me. I hear blood pounding in my ears and can't keep the shock from my face.

"Almost certainly." A kick in the ribs while I'm down. I lean back in the plush chair, trying to process this.

Juliana. Gorgeous, brave, vibrant Juliana. Dead?

I can still feel the ghost of her lips on my cheek. Her hand in mine, so delicate. Remember how small and fragile she had felt in my arms as I practically carried her back from the bridge outside Canon City.

How her eyes seemed to shift from green to blue depending on the light...

I can still hear her voice ringing in my ears. That she believed in me, not the film. That I had changed after meeting her, that I wanted to do the right thing.

The Obergruppenfuhrer is still talking, and I tilt my head back as I feel the first tingling of tears behind my eyes. I can't, won't let a single tear even begin to well in my eyes in front of this bastard. He already suspects too much.

"You have to learn to leave your feelings out of it, Joe."

Screw it.

"I can't do that, sir."

Why didn't I have Obergruppenfuhrer Smith forcibly removed from the property? Why did I agreed to have 'a private word?' Out of a stupid sense of loyalty? Even if all this man has ever done is lie and manipulate me. For that one brief day, he had made me a part of his family, treated me like a son. He let me know what it was like to have a father who cared.

But it was all lies. Like everything else in my life.

Except her. Except Juliana.

She'd only ever lied about her name, when we first met, but I understood why she did that. She had never lied about the important things.

All I ever did was lie to her. Until that last hour, when she had helped me get away. When I told her that I changed because of her, that I wanted to do the right thing.

John Smith is asking me to put aside my anger. To help him save lives, hundreds of thousands of lives.

"Lives of people we love." I scoff. "Rita, Buddy…" I shift in my seat, uncomfortable with the reminder of my old life, before Her. "Helen, the kids…" I put a hand to my mouth, trying to hide my agitation, and failing.

"What makes you think-"

"Juliana Crain." I freeze, confusion settling in. But I can feel a small flicker of hope, that she is alive.

Juliana's lips against my own. A whisper in my ear. 'No. I'm alive.'

"What?" I lean forward, demanding an answer.

"She's been living in New York, Joe. Under my protection." He says it so matter-of-factly like he's stating the obvious.

"No, no." I shake my head. "No, I know that's a lie." I try to quash that hope, seeing the triumph on the Obergruppenfuhrer's face.

"My family sponsored her citizenship. You can check it with one call." I feel all the same emotions I did when John had told me she was dead. A sense of turmoil, denial, and heartbreak.

"She was in the Resistance. You would've never have granted that." Leaning forward, I clasp my hands together to hide the shaking. I have to believe this is some sort of trick. That John was lying.

But what if it is true? He said I could call to check…

"When I saw how important she was, I kept her alive." John is relaxed, holding my gaze, no fidgeting. He's telling the truth.

For an instant I feel my mouth want to curve up into a smile.

She's alive! Juliana is alive!

But the full weight of what Smith is saying lands on me. Anger, and pure unadulterated hatred fills me. He knew Juliana was my weakness and deliberately kept this from me until the most opportune moment. At least, opportune for the Obergruppenfuhrer.

"You manipulative, son of a bitch." I grind my teeth together at the nonchalant shrug I receive in return.

A/N: Good? Bad? Somewhere in between? Let me know :)