Complicated
By Athena13
May 2010
A/N: Short character study of John McBain when he gets Natalie's letter
John McBain was a complicated man.
Life had taught him early and often that change equaled loss, so he taught himself not to want; that way when the inevitable happened he didn't get too hurt. He also taught himself to play it safe, emotionally, and to make sure that those in his life got what they wanted so they didn't leave him, right away. He excelled at not rocking the boat, giving out just enough line to steady the anchor, but never too much. Too much led to wanting. Which led to change. And loss.
Loving John McBain was a complex matter.
Many had tried, few had succeeded. Not the lawyer, not even the psychiatrist. There was the other, the one they counted out.
She, Natalie Buchanan, had been different from the start. The intuitive cop knew it from the first moment he met her, but the skipping of his pulse and the sharpening of his senses were easily mistaken for how he always felt on the scent of a case. How was he to know it was actually the scent of a woman – chalk and flowers? After all, she wasn't unfamiliar to him. He had studied her colorful background; it was his job to get inside her head. He had seen the photos; her beauty didn't impress him. By the time he realized what was going on it was too late. He wanted. More than he had ever wanted before. Her.
Denying the love of Natalie Buchanan was a necessity.
That's what she did to him. Always had. Always would. First, he chucked his job to stay around and clean up what he had caused. To be there to catch her if she fell. To let the guilt and the sight of her pain be the sharp knife's edge to cut away the want and let him go back to his safe half-life of work and guilt. It never worked. The closer he got, the more he wanted. He grabbed. He pulled back or someone did it for him. He couldn't stay. He couldn't go.
Either way he turned was change.
Change was Death.
His father.
His fiancé.
His own.
Natalie's almost so many times.
Too many almosts for this boy from Atlantic City. Those were odds he knew better than to play. So he stayed away and eventually had to look away from what he could not want.
Then her twisted sister became another almost and he wasn't there to save her. So he watched again, from afar; buried still in the safe cotton of the life he built – a life without want. Guilt. Caring. Playing Hero. Giving. Ultimately, not giving enough and never tempted to do so.
Then the moment that deep down he knew would come came. He was needed. To save her, protect her, be near her. His resistance was worn. He had to have her. He was on his way to make the change. To admit his want. To have it. Her.
Then change and loss came again. This time in the form of a gift. A baby. A new life. A new obligation.
He put the want away. It was the right thing to do. It was what he had to do. What she wanted him to do. Because she loved John McBain, the complicated man; not the perfect one.
Then it all went to hell and he didn't know where to turn. He needed time. To think. To gauge Her. To wait until it was respectable. Or not go out and dare again.
It was complicated. He needed to think. To wait.
But once again she couldn't. It wasn't that complex.
END