The Picture In The Paper

Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit, just for fun (!?), please don't sue as my kid(s) need my money.

SPOILERS and SETTING: Up to Season 4, TF. Setting is 7 years post season 4, the assumption being that John stayed on Earth after TF. No sex, no violence, but mental illness and angst.

Personally I like to read action/adventure with a bit of comedy and J/A together, no matter how dysfunctional. If you like that sort of thing, too, THEN DON'T READ THIS!

Previously posted on Terra Firma

It had been 7 years now since they had gone. Since she had gone. Leaving him on Earth. The details were hazy to him even now. For that he had the Lakka, the breakdown and the subsequent Earth-drugs to blame . He had vague memories of the arguments after the attack at his father's house: He and Aeryn; he and Holt; Aeryn and Holt. And so many government and military agents. Then one day, he had been told, they had left. Without him. Without a goodbye.

He had a good life now. He reminded himself of that every day. A life in the city, married to Caroline, with two adorable kids running around them, filling his days with some sort of meaning, some sort of purpose.

"Just the one. Kid." Caroline reminded him with a sad smile. "Remember to mention that when you see the doctor?" she pleaded with him as he got ready to leave the apartment.

John made his way through the windy autumn streets to the anonymous government office block. He flashed his pass at security and made his way upwards through the building towards the office of his psychiatrist. Just as, he reminded himself, he had done 89 times before.

The floors ticked by in the elevator: 11th, 12th. Then unexpectedly, the elevator stopped. 13th : wrong floor, more security guards than on the floor he was headed to. He'd never stopped at the 13th floor before. John waited impatiently for the door to shut, but then there was a commotion, and he felt himself drawn to step out. And there she was. Long dark hair, sad, dark eyes, so much sadder than even 7 years ago, Christmas eve at his father's house. She was being led across the far end of the corridor, her shoulders and head bowed, escorted by two burly men. John stepped forward, called her name. She looked up, looked his way. She looked a like a shadow of the brave, strong woman he remembered. Then there was more commotion. Fire, smoke, confusion, alarms. John rushed towards her, grabbed her arm, and fled towards the fire escape.

Twenty minutes later he was on the sidewalk. With her. Not a word had been spoken. She seemed so weak, so quiet. So…. Broken. She slumped, and he lowered her body, leant over and kissed her.

'I love you, John.' she whispered, her voice so quiet. Too quiet. 'All these years, I knew you'd come for me.'

'I love you Aeryn,' he whispered back, his eyes clouded by tears. He kissed her, slowly. Once.

Then came the crowds, eager hands, pulling them apart. Paramedics. Police. Firemen. They loaded her into an ambulance and then she was gone. If only he not been so tired, if only she not been so weak, they would not, could not have been parted. He wandered the streets alone, unsure what to do, until dusk fell. At last, he found himself outside his apartment and, not knowing what else to do, he walked in.

Caroline met him at the door, her excitement bubbling over.

'Oh John. You must see this, I'm so proud!" she pushed the evening paper into his unresisting hands.

Aliens Return! Screamed the headline. But it was the picture, taking up half the front page, that was all he saw. It was Aeryn, lying on the sidewalk, with him leaning across, their mouths joined. 'Fire Hero gives CPR to Alien' read the caption. If only they knew. If only Caroline knew.

He could not read the main story, his eyes were so full of tears, but from the pictures on the inside pages it seemed all his friends had returned, come to this city, today, but then had been caught in some terrible fire at a government building. They seem to have survived, from the pictures, but John did not know what to do, so he just sat and stared at the newspaper in his hands. Stared at the picture of himself and Aeryn on the sidewalk. Minutes passed to hours. Caroline left him in his chair and she went to bed, as she had done so many times before. Dawn came, and still he sat there, paralysed by his fears. Caroline came into the room, shot him a concerned look and slowly opened the drapes. Light fell onto the newspaper and he watched as slowly the photo of he and Aeryn began to fade, replaced by everyday stories of city banality.

Caroline came over and knelt beside him, brushing a concerned hand across his cheek, across his brow. Gently she eased the newspaper from his grip.

'Bad night?' she whispered. 'I'll call the clinic, get you another appointment.' She stood with a sigh and moved towards the phone, casting a sad look back to her broken husband on the way. As she lifted the phone she forced herself into one last attempt to break through to him. 'I love you , John. You know that, don't you?' Silence. She dialled.

End