Disclaimer: The Tomorrow People is the property of the CW. No copyright infringement is intended.

~ X ~

Their reunion was everything he could hope for. There was something so special, so thrilling about make up sex . . . it was hard to match it. They teleported to a vacant hotel room after telling TIM to cover their absence. By turns tender, fierce, and demanding they spent most of the night bringing each other to the brink then backing down to peak again. When they crashed they rested and then started again.

The shower . . . the floor . . . against the wall . . . on the bureau . . . and finally the bed.

They knew each others' bodies so well and their telepathic connection allowed them to experience their partner's pleasure.

Only now in the early morning hours just before dawn did his demons come back to haunt him.

He lay on his side, head supported by his hand, arm bent at the elbow, gazing down at her, filled with wonder that she was his. He drank in the beauty that was Cara knowing he could never get enough.

A wisp of her thick dark hair fell over her cheek and he gently brushed it aside, ghosting the back of his hand over her smooth perfect skin. So lucky to have her.

For how long?

There it was again. He couldn't keep that voice out of his head. He held it at bay when he was busy, when they worked together, made love together, but in the quiet of the night when all was silent and he was alone it came back to torment him.

She has that connection with Stephen. In your heart you know a part of her loves him.

He fought the voice. But she loves me. She told me and Cara is honest.

The voice wouldn't quit, wouldn't back down. Is she? Isn't it rather suspicious that she asked you back only after she found out how convenient it was to have a killer at her command? Once she realized how it levels the odds when her side can kill too.

He angrily rolled over on his back willing the voice to be quiet, but it fought back.

When have you ever been good enough? When has a family ever wanted you to stay? It will happen again. You'll be abandoned. Rejected the way you've always been.

John thought back over all the foster homes he had been through. His earliest memories were ones of disappointment. He was always tall for his age a foreshadowing of his eventual six foot one height. Maybe people expected more from him because his height made him seem older than he was. "What's wrong with you? He's smaller than you and he gets it! Are you stupid?" The cute small ones were kept while the gangly awkward kid who seemed a little slow was sent back.

He did have one good family, but just his luck he broke out while he was with them. So confused, so unsure and when he tried to tell the truth he was accused of lying. He would wake up in the strangest places and he was too young to come up with a believable story. Eventually the family just got tired of the drama. They had other foster kids and without him they were a Brady bunch TV perfect family.

Once they sent him back things went downhill for him. Who knows what went into his record. Only the dirt bags that needed the money from the state would take him. He learned a lot from the other kids and eventually as the younger kids got adopted he worked his way into the kid caretaker. Again, they looked to him because of his height. Taller must be older right?

Until that last home with that piece of sh . . . until Jedikiah found him.

He snorted quietly, throwing an arm over his eyes. Jedikiah Price, the man who rescued him from the hell hole he was condemned to, only not to bring him to heaven. Just a different type of hell hole.

To give the devil his due Jedikiah had saved him multiple times when his naïve mistakes should have gotten him killed or stripped of his TP abilities.

And he tried to repay the man by struggling to exceed, pitting himself against kids at least six years older than himself. His height was no advantage here. They had inches and pounds on him. Next to most of them he was puny, but he persevered determined to make Jedikiah proud of him.

He had suffered hell for that man. Even now his mind shied away from the agony of the neural stripping, but he had endured it until the last betrayal when he was forced to choose between his mentor and his friend.

Jedikiah had used him. His . . . yeah, admit it to yourself here in the privacy of your mind . . . father or the closest thing he would ever get to one used him.

The voice sensing weakness came back. So, if your father used you why do you think your girlfriend won't?

He refused to acknowledge the voice, but that never worked. The voice was nothing if not persistent.

Even your underground family, the family you built recruit by recruit, turned against you. You weren't good enough for them. You gave them leadership, security, saved them from death or the shot and still they chose Cara over you. When have you ever been good enough?

He tried to turn his thoughts to something positive. He pictured Marla and the love she openly showed for her boys. He thought about the sacrifices she made for them, denying her powers, working two jobs. Someone who sacrificed everything for her family.

The voice turned it against him. Even your mother didn't want you. One father didn't want you and the other father tried to kill you. And still you think Cara wants you?

That hurt and the voice knew it and attacked. You'll always be on the outside looking in. Wanting to be part of a family but never quite accepted.

John rolled over on his stomach willing himself to sleep, but the doubt gnawed at him. His movement woke Cara who sleepily reached for him. He changed his position, holding her in his arms but the voice had done its job.

Does she really love me more than Stephen? Will I ever be enough for her?

~ FIN ~