Love Lift Me

By Jenevieve

Summary: Natalie learns from Evangeline and Layla that the imposter who claimed to be Cristian is indeed Natalie's husband, a fact that John has been hiding from Natalie at Cristian's request. Confused and emotionally shaken, Natalie must decide between the husband she loved and buried, and the new love of her life who has been keeping secrets from her.

Rating: R for sexual situations

Disclaimer: I sadly do not own any of the characters. They are all the wonderful creations of Agnes Nixon and the writers of One Life to Live, and I am only taking advantage of my love of the show to play with them for a little while.

Spoilers: Follows the current storyline of the developing relationship between John McBain and Natalie Vega after Natalie was saved from Hayes Barber. The story follows the basic direction of the storyline but it is completely my own creation building off of hints gleaned from the show up until this point.

A/N: Lyrics used in this fan fiction are from Amanda Marshall's song "Love Lift Me" which also lends its name to this fan fic.

Somebody told me

Once in a lifetime

Destiny finds you and blows you away

Spins you in circles

Pulls you in pieces

Bleeds you like Jesus

And goes on its way

---

Chapter 1: Revelations

It was late, nearly midnight, but sleep was the last thing on her mind. She sat silently in the near darkness, her legs curled up beside her on the couch, the soft warm glow of the fire in the fireplace across from her the only light in the room, crackling and popping flames making her red hair shimmer like fire. A pile of tissues lay balled up and scattered along the base of the couch, a discarded empty Kleenex box lying on its side beneath the legs of the coffee table beside her. Her eyes stared straight ahead into the flames, slightly bloodshot and puffy, the only lingering hints of the tears that had flowed only hours earlier. It had been a rough day and for once she was grateful that she had Llanfair all to herself.

Quietly she twirled the long stem of the wine glass she held in her lap. She had to admit she felt a little better and was thankful to the bottle of Pinot Noir she had nearly finished off. But still an ache remained in her chest as her mind continued to replay the events of the day. If only she hadn't gone to Capricorn…

But Antonio had called her; said it was urgent, about Jessica, so she had gone. At first everything was fine. Antonio had called her to let her know Jess was back. Somehow he'd found her in California but she wasn't well. He'd just left her at the hospital where she was being kept under constant supervision. Of course she had insisted to see Jess, but Antonio had said no. Said she would be fine, that she just needed some time. His voice had been shaking with such concern that she had agreed to what he had asked and thanked him for keeping her in the loop. They had shared a smile, a hug, a few more moments of quiet sympathy and comfort over what they both had been enduring lately: for Antonio, his messy fight for custody of his daughter, Jessica's mysterious disappearances, and a new relationship with Layla (though considering his reaction to Jess's reappearance, she doubted Layla was anything but a lapse in judgment on Antonio's part) and for her, her slow but positive return to the comfortable safety of her life after being kidnapped by Hayes Barber and her new relationship with John.

John. For a moment, her mind snapped back to the present and she felt tears rising up again. She sucked in a sharp breath and gripped the wine glass tighter. She was stronger than this, and with a deep breath she finished off the glass of wine and allowed the memories to consumer her again.

She had been in the middle of saying goodbye to Antonio when they had arrived, the Williamson sisters. She had tried to excuse herself, something in her stomach telling her to leave, but she had been too slow, too polite. Evangeline had appeared nervous, fidgety, her fingers constantly twisting the straps of her purse. She had tried to get Layla to leave as well but her younger sister had just stood there with a grin that sent shivers down her spine, like a fat cat with a mouse happily in its mouth. And before she knew it Layla was shoving papers in her face rambling about Cristian, about how he was alive and in jail. It all had seemed like a blur and it hadn't been until Layla started screaming about how Cris was alive rotting in prison while his wife shacked up with the man who she had stolen from her sister and who had been lying all this time, that she had awoken from her stooper and nearly slapped Layla across the face if Antonio hadn't intervened.

It was then that Evangeline had stepped in and explained it all. She described how the imposter Cristian had indeed been the real thing, her Cris, her beloved husband, and that John had known all along but said nothing. Her vision had swayed slightly and she found herself gripping Antonio's forearm for support. For a moment she felt numb, refusing to believe it, but as the world rushed back in around her she found herself staring down at the results of the DNA test John had convinced her needed to be done to prove the man who she thought was her husband wasn't…but the tests said he was Cris.

"Antonio?" she whispered, looking up into his equally shocked face.

"Of course this doesn't diminish the fact that he is still a convicted murderer," Evangeline continued, suddenly more confident in her demeanor, "but when I met with him yesterday I learned his cell has been next to Carlo Hesser's for awhile now, and there is a good chance that if he turned state's evidence against Hesser that he could get early parole."

She had continued to stare at Antonio, questions and confusion bombarding her from all directions. John knew!

"No wonder John went with you," Layla smirked. "Needed to protect his secrets. Probably felt guilty over it, so he figured getting with you would somehow make up for it. Must feel pretty good to know your man only picked you because he felt guilty, but then again you got over Cristian pretty fast yourself." Her smirk grew wider. She was enjoying herself now, gloating, just waiting for her to break right in front of them. Nearly laughing with delight, Layla shot Evangeline a satisfied smile.

"I want to see him." The words had left her mouth before her mind caught up and processed what she was saying.

"I really don't think that's appropriate right now, Nat…" Evangeline had started.

"I want to see him right now," she had turned full force now, her eyes boring into Evangeline.

"I don't know…"

"Just do it!" She was starting to lose it but was determined to not let the Williamson harpies see her cry. "If you managed to get in to see him then you can do it for me. I don't care how but you've known about this for at least a few days now, right?"

Evangeline nodded. "About two weeks."

"Two weeks," she'd shaken her head at that little revelation. Evangeline Williamson had known before she had and for a good two weeks. "Then as far as I'm concerned you owe me for not telling me sooner."

Evangeline made to protest but she had cut her off with a look that had made the usually composed attorney visibly flinch. "No, you owe me Evangeline, and I don't care how you do it, but do it. I want to see my husband by this afternoon!" And without another word she had turned and walked as casually as she could out the door and into the rainy morning air.

She had been too numb to think as she waited patiently at the small metal table in the large concrete visiting room of Statesville Prison, her eyes staring into the fuzzy reflection of her face in the scratched metal top of the table. It all felt surreal, like the start to a bad nightmare, and unconsciously she pinched at her arm. But she didn't wake up, John's hands and arms didn't reach out to her, pulling her back from a dream. No this was as real a moment as they come…

And then he had entered the room. John Doe, the man she had believed to be her husband returned from the dead, the man who had killed Tico in cold blood, the man she had come to believe to be an imposter. But he wasn't an imposter, he was Cristian, her Cristian, and she felt tears of confusion welling up inside.

"Natalie," he whispered gently, surprised to see her sitting before him.

"I know who you are," she replied quietly.

He started to protest as he took the seat across from her.

"Stop lying!" she cried, jumping to her feet and slamming her hands down on the table. "No more lies, from anyone! You're really Cristian Vega. I saw the DNA results, I know the truth."

"McBain told you didn't, he?" Cris growled. "That son of a bitch, I swear…"

"John told me nothing," she replied flatly, her voice devoid of emotion for the moment. "In retrospect he tried to, a few times, but no, he never divulged your ugly little secret."

"Then how?"

"Not important. I just wanted to know why? Why didn't you or John or anyone else tell me?"

"Because I knew you'd wait, knew you'd waste your life waiting for me to get out of here, and I couldn't let that happen. John agreed so I made him swear not to tell you the truth. I wanted you to have a chance at happiness again, but when McBain showed up and told me that you two were involved…"

"John came to see you?"

"Yeah, just after he saved you from that pit, though it was his fault you were taken in the first place…"

Cristian continued on for a few moments but she had tuned him out, the early days of her growing relationship with John dancing before her eyes. The phone call involving a prisoner. She had assumed it was about Hayes and he had let her, but it hadn't been about Barber, it had been about Cris.

"I can't be the husband you deserve, Natalie," Cris's voice brought her back to reality. "I'm stuck in here and will be for a long time. I still can't remember what happened to me between the time I first disappeared and when I returned last year, or why I killed Tico, but I did it, and I sealed our fate in that moment. I'm sorry. It might not be worth much but I still love you."

She swallowed hard, unnerved by his confession and slowly she began to pace. "Evangeline says you may be able to get early parole."

He nodded without a word, his eyes watching her pace.

"The warden told me you could get out of here as early as next month."

"I'm not holding my breath," he scoffed. Then softly he added, "And even if I did, which I still don't really buy into, I wouldn't expect anything…"

"I don't know what to think right now," she continued, ignoring him. She began to rub her folded forearms with her hands as if she was cold. "I'm not even sure how to feel. I'm involved with John, Cris. Things are good with us, really good." She turned sharply on her heels and looked him straight in the eyes. "I love him."

"And he lied to you. It's because of him you were kidnapped and are upset now," Cris snapped back. "And I know you still love me."

"He lied because you asked him to," she replied quietly, "you just said so yourself."

Cris stared at the table top.

"But he did lie to me…" she was thinking aloud, her voice shaking slightly with the churning emotions seething just beneath the surface.

"I'm sorry," he offered weakly.

"I need to leave now," she said softly.

"Natalie," he reached across the table and grabbed her arm.

For a moment she stared up into his face, a tear escaping from her eyes. She stared up into Cris's eyes, the same deep cool brown she'd fallen into so many times. Her eyes moved down his face to his arms and chest, a place she had always felt so safe in when he held her close.

"I have to go," she pulled back from him slightly and he let her. Turning she had walked quickly out of the room too afraid to look back.

The chirping of her cell phone broke her from her thoughts, and reaching over she retrieved it from the coffee table. She had 26 messages: three were from Antonio and one from Carlotta no doubt confused and wanting to check up on her, five were from Michael McBain probably offering sympathy and support over his brother's betrayal, seven were from Rex…. She smiled slightly at Rex's name. She could just imagine the different methods of killing John Rex must have offered up with each new message. And finally there were ten from John.

Taking a deep breath, she punched in her password and began to filter through the messages.

"Natalie, it's John."

Why did he always start his messages like that? Didn't he know she had his number in her phone already so he didn't need to identify himself by name each time?

"Look just call me as soon as you get this."

"It's John again. Just call me."

"Natalie, please call me as soon as you get this. This is John by the way."

"John again. Where are you?"

"It's John. Please just call me, Natalie. We need to talk."

Etcetera etcetera etcetera.

As she punched in the code to erase the last message everything suddenly seemed crystal clear, and getting to her feet she headed up to her room to retrieve her jacket and purse.