Scars
By Jenevieve
Summary: When a malicious comment by Layla gets Natalie questioning her past motives concerning John, an evening spent discussing Natalie's battle scars reveals something much deeper.
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: The story follows the basic current storyline of "One Life to Live", skipping ahead a few weeks following Todd's faked execution and before Layla began dating Vincent Jones. It was written just after David's arraignment so it is quite different from the show's actual events.
A/N: Lyrics used in this fan fiction are from Jewel's song "Absence of Fear". I also did not have a beta on this story so please forgive any minor mistakes (P.S. I'm looking for a OLTL beta if anyone is interested ).
there is this hunger, this restlessness inside of me
and it knows that you're no strange, you're my gravity
my hands will adore you through all darkness aim
they will lay you out in moonlight and reinvent your name
for I am wanting, oh
and I am needing you here
I need you near
inside the absence of fear
…
She moved up the stairs slowly, taking each step heavily one at a time, the weight of the day still pressing down on her tired body with each step forward. It had been one of those days, and she let out a heavy sigh as she turned the corner of the landing and began the arduous trek up yet one more flight. She knew there was no point stopping by John's apartment; on a night like tonight he'd be up on the roof enjoying the weather. Mid-July and the heat was already oppressive. At this rate it was shaping up to be a particularly hot and humid summer.
Finally she reached the top of the stairs, her hand resting on the warm metal door knob. Again she heard Layla's tittering laughter like nails on a chalk board. If only she hadn't stopped by Capricorn for lunch that afternoon. So what if Cristian and Evangeline were together? Why should she care? She was with John after all; she'd picked him over Cristian. So Cris was moving on with his own life too. Good for him. But why oh why did he have to be moving forward with Evangeline Williamson!
"Damn harpy!" Natalie muttered to herself.
In another life, in another time she and Evangeline would probably have been the best of friends; two strong, passionate, independent women who were more alike then either would happily admit. But the simple reality was that men had doomed any chance of friendship for the two and fate seemed to enjoy tossing men back and forth between the two of them, watching with bedroom eyes as the pair faced off over John and now potentially Cristian. And yet even as she felt the prickling flames of jealousy, or rather a nostalgic sense of territory, of needing to protect her ex-husband, Natalie knew in her heart it really didn't matter. She didn't want Cristian, not even a little bit. She had the man she wanted, no matter how broken he was, John was everything she desired, so it was all just a moot point. Yet then why did she feel so defeated, so uncomfortable in her own skin?
If on cue she felt the dull ache shoot up her right leg, the fading reminder of her latest brush with death, and reaching down she ran her fingertips over the ace bandage she wore wrapped around her mid-thigh.
"Face it Red, you lose. Vange is happy and so is Cristian, and this time I'm not standing by and letting you get your claws into my sister's man."
"Layla," Natalie sighed heavily, "How many times do I have to tell you I'm not into Cristian. I'm with John. I love John, but that doesn't mean I don't still care about Cristian's happiness. Cris and I are friends, that's it, so unless he tells me otherwise I'm going to be there for him as a friend, so back off!"
"Brave words coming from a woman who has to con her men into loving her," Layla shot back.
"And what the hell is that suppose to mean?"
Layla shrugged, a nasty smile curling the edges of her lips. "I'm just saying people talk."
"And?"
"It's just a woman has to be pretty desperate to purposely throw herself into harms way time and time again all to get a guy to notice her. A guy like John, always willing to play the hero, guess it makes sense your sad little games would keeping him sniffing around you, but give him time. You can't be in danger every waking moment and as soon as the danger fades John's going to see that there is nothing worth a second glance sleeping beside him. Nope, just some cheap, desperate floozy one step up from white trash."
"I'd be careful who you're calling trash. I'm not the one throwing myself at a taken man."
"Right, because Jessica has really been there for Antonio and Jamie lately. Oh wait that's right, she hasn't been in charge since she was sleeping with Nash and claiming to be Tess. You Buchanan girls really have nerve."
"You don't know what you're talking about…" Natalie growled, her voice deadly even.
"Of course I don't," Layla replied sarcastically, her voice equally low. Picking up her purse she had graced Natalie with one final wicked smile before adding, "By the way, Natalie, how's the leg feeling?"
"Next time I'm sending Rex in there for take out," Natalie mumbled as she pulled herself back from her run in with Layla and pushed the door open, stepping out onto the roof.
The fading sunlight hit her with a blazing flood of golden light, and for a moment Natalie stood in the doorway blinded by the light.
"Hey," John's voice called through the sunlight.
Natalie raised her hand, shading her eyes until John's form came into view, as he made his way towards her a beer in hand.
"Hey," she replied with a soft smile, taking the beer, and giving him a grateful kiss on the cheek. Raising the cold bottle to her lips she took a long deep drink, her head tilted backwards, her eyes closed.
John watched her drink in silence, his eyes tracing the long curve of her neck as she drank. She was dressed in short yellow sundress with small buttons running down the front, the thin pale straps standing out in stark contrast to the golden tan that bathed her skin. Most redheads burned easily but somehow Natalie had learned how to achieve a faint sun-kissed color that gave her skin a lustrous glow. The skirt of the dress came to rest just above her knees and the lower three buttons of the dress had been undone revealing a provocative glimpse of her thighs as she moved. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail with a few stray strands falling about her face and neck. She seemed to glow like fire in the fading sunlight, beautiful and alive, and John smiled to himself.
Finally after drinking nearly half the bottle, Natalie lowered the tapered green glass from her lips and let out a deep sigh.
"Long day?" John raised an eyebrow, his arms folded across his chest. For a moment Natalie just looked at him dressed in his usual black t-shirt and dark jeans. How in the world was he not sweating to death in all that black?
"Something like that," she replied heavily, moving passed him and taking a seat in one of the folding lawn chairs they'd carried up to the roof a few nights back. Beside a second chair John had spread out their usual roof-top bed: a pile of blankets and an array of pillows, just the type of thing for laying back and watching the stars come out.
"Up for talking about it?" He pressed, taking the seat beside her and lifting his own beer to his lips.
"It's nothing really…" Natalie stared down at her hands in her lap as she twirled her beer.
"It must be something," John turned his head towards her. His eyes followed her gaze down to her hands and as she shifted her weight he noticed the contrasting color of the ace bandage peaking out from beneath her skirt. "I thought Michael said that once the stitches were removed you needed to keep that thing exposed or it's not going to finish healing right?"
"I've been," Natalie bit her lower lip as she tried desperately to pull the skirt down over the edge of the bandage. "It's just people stare and this helps."
"Since when do you care what people think?" John baulked.
"So what if I care sometimes!" Natalie snapped. "It doesn't make me any shallower than the next person. So what if I don't want people staring and whispering. I'm not helpless! I'm not looking to be a victim. Bad stuff just happens sometimes, so what's the big deal? It's not like I asked for this!"
"Woah, woah there," John put his hands up in surrender. "I didn't mean anything by the question. If it makes you feel better than…"
"It doesn't," Natalie interrupted quietly.
"Hey," John leaned over and ran a hand along the side of her face, his fingers getting lost in her hair. "Where's this all coming from?"
"It's stupid," Natalie turned her face from him ever so slightly.
"Try me," he gently turned her chin back towards him.
"Just something Layla said to me today and it got me thinking."
"Well there was your first mistake, listening to Layla," John teased gently trying to get a smile out of her, but it was no use.
"No for once she had a point," Natalie hunched her shoulders forward defeated.
Concern creased John's face, and he decided to try a different approach. "What exactly did she say?"
"That I've positioned myself in such away so that you'd have to rescue me each time. That all the scars I carry," she ran a hand over her thigh, "are just some sad attempt on my part to keep you interested and in my life."
"We've been over this before," John cupped the side of face with his left hand and rubbed the side of her cheek with his thumb. "I'm not with you because I feel like I need to protect you."
"I know that," Natalie reached up and wrapped her hands around his wrist, leaning her face into his palm. "I'm not saying this has anything to do with how you feel about all this, but I mean you've put a lot on the line for me lately John. I should be dead three times over but you've pulled me out of the fire literally and figuratively each time. And maybe I have been putting myself out there on purpose."
"Don't do this to yourself," John replied softly.
"After Cris died I could care less about my own life. The thought of dying, sometimes I believed I would have welcomed the reality of it with open arms, but you kept me grounded, you kept me from giving in. And then I started to feel again and I lost you to Caitlin's memory and then to Evangeline. I'm not saying that any of this is your fault, it's just I searched out people like Paul Kramer because I just didn't give a damn anymore, and when that brought me no relief I fixated on you and was willing to do anything to be with you. I was wrong and I was childish, and I think a part of me might have gone after the Killing Club Killer just to get you back."
Tears began to blur Natalie's vision and she wiped at them with the back of her hands. "After all you always came to my rescue, so in that respect maybe Layla was right. But after Statesville I thought I had changed, and then the tornado hit, and once again you were by my side willing to take another chance on me when you thought I might die."
John just watched her silently, so many emotions washing over her face. He swallowed hard, wanting nothing more than to pull her close but he knew better to let her finish.
"I'm not blaming you or questioning your reasons for being with me John. If anyone is to blame it's me. Layla is right, I've done nothing but been reckless with my own life in the hopes of you loving me."
"You done?" John's voice was soft but stern.
Natalie nodded once, unable to look John in the eyes, tear running hot down her face. The fading heat of the summer day still hung heavy in the air like a wet blanket, and it made Natalie feel heady and confused, pushing her emotions out in one salty tear after another.
"Look at me," John ordered gently, lifting her face in both of his hands. Her red-rimmed eyes met his steady, cool gaze. "It's mine turn now so you listen, ok?"
Natalie nodded sheepishly.
"No interruptions."
Again she nodded.
"Ok, good," John smiled ever so slightly as he wiped at her tear-streaked cheeks with his thumbs. "Do you know what I see when I look at you?"
Natalie shook her head 'no'.
"I see a strong woman who will do anything for the people in her life that she cares about, no matter how much they may push her away. I see a woman who doesn't give up easily, who fights for what she wants, for what she believes in, and doesn't let others push her around. I see a stubborn, independent woman who is smart and funny, and not too hard on the eyes."
Natalie smiled slightly, choking back a sob.
"But most of all I see a woman who is far from a victim. And as for this scar," John placed his hand over Natalie thigh. "And these two," he reached up and touched the two faint pink lines above her left eye, a reminder of Paul Kramer and Barber's first attempt on her life. "And this one," he ran his finger along her collar bone where a few tiny popped blood vessels still whispered of Haver's attack. "I think they're beautiful."
"Beautiful?" Natalie whispered her brows drawn together in confusion.
"As beautiful as every other part of you. Though this one," John's fingers returned to her thigh, "this one is my favorite."
"I don't understand," Natalie protested.
"What's a scar?" John released her face and leaned back in her chair.
"A reminder," Natalie answered. "Of a mistake."
"That's one way to look at it," John winked taking a last long sip from his beer.
"One way? That's what it is," Natalie frowned, pushing herself to her feet and moving towards the edge of the roof-top, her eyes staring off across the city skyline still bathed in the fading golden light.
"Or maybe it's a different kind of reminder," John purposed from his seat in the shade.
"A reminder of what?" Natalie whirled to face him.
Without a word John rose and walked towards her. Reaching down he slid her right leg forward pushing her skirt upward until the ace bandage was completely exposed. Silently he removed the metal clips and began to unwind the bandage. Natalie just watched him with curious eyes. When he'd finished John tossed the bandage and clips to the side, his fingertips running up and down the thin red scar.
"John, I don't underst…" Natalie began but John interrupted her.
"This scar reminds me of what I have," John replied softly, his eyes focused on her leg. "Of what I almost loss but didn't."
"John," Natalie breathed.
"I love this scar," John continued, "not just because it is part of you, but because it is a constant reminder of the best thing that has ever come into my life, and that it's going to take a hell of a lot to get me to give it up."
Tilting his head upward his eyes met Natalie's, a soft smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "So let people stare, let Layla talk. It doesn't matter because I still get to wake up to this scar every morning."
Without a word Natalie fell forward into John's arms. "Thank you," she whispered against his hair.
He nodded gently against her head in reply, one hand gently stroking the back of her hair.
"I love you," Natalie whispered softly, her lips finding his.
For a moment they stood together, their kisses soft and playful, but slowly they deepened a tangle of lips and tongues that ignited desire deep inside them both. With growing fervor, John moved his lips down her neck, his hands clutching her back, her hands lost in his hair as he moved down to her exposed chest. Natalie's eyes rolled back and she closed her eyes, the rough feeling of John's goatee and mustache along her exposed skin sending shockwaves down her spine. She gasped with pleasure.
Pulling back, John stared down at her, both their breathing erratic and excited as his hands moved down her waist and over the swell of her hips. Slowly he lowered himself to his knees, his eyes never leaving her gaze. Kneeling before her on the roof-top he undid the fourth and fifth button up from the bottom of her sundress, exposing the slightest hint of the pink panties she wore beneath. Slowly he pushed up the skirt flap that rested against her right thigh with his fingers as he cupped her thigh in both hands bringing it forward to his lips. John's lips moved over Natalie's scar softly, gently, his tongue igniting a fire inside of her with each cool touch against the rough surface of her scar. Natalie's hands clutched John's hair between her fingers tightly, clinging to him as she felt her body unravel. Overcome with desire, she dropped to her knees before him, her lips seeking his once more.
Fingers grappled with buttons as they blindly tore at each other's clothes, their lips still lost in one another's. Breaking apart momentarily, Natalie helped John pull his shirt over his head before falling back into his embrace and onto the pile of blankets and pillows that lay behind them. John's body pressed down on top of Natalie's as his fingers fumbled with the buttons of her sundress, but her hands stopped his progress. Pulling back John stared down at her in confusion but with a wicked smile Natalie rolled him onto his back, kissing him violently. Tugging his pants and underwear off, Natalie removed her own before straddling John's waist, her half unbuttoned sundress draping to the ground, covering his naked hips. Resting her palms on his chest, Natalie splayed her fingers, sliding them forward her hips turning into his as she slid easily over him. John's eyes rolled back as he moved into her, a groan escaping unchecked from his lips.
With a mischievous smile, Natalie leaned forward and kissed him hard as she began to move above him, teasing him with short strokes before allowing him to move deeper within her. John's breath came in quick gasps and reaching up he clamped his hands hard on her hips rocking into her with such force that she leaned lower against his chest, her body already trembling. Finally the friction was too much and with one last thrust John tumbled over the edge, his body bucking wildly into hers. Seconds later Natalie followed suit, her body collapsing against his as the body rush sapped her of strength, her body on fire from within.
As the body rush subsided, Natalie lay exhausted on top of John, her head resting in the middle of his chest. Silently she listened to his heart beat slow to a steady beat, her fingers tracing invisible circles along the muscles of his stomach. Suddenly her fingers stopped moving as her eyes sliding across the scar that ran horizontally along the right side of John's stomach. John's largest scar. The scar John had received the night Caitlin had been killed.
"John?" Natalie's voice was warm against the skin of his stomach.
"Yeah?"
"Do still think about Caitlin? Because I would understand if you do," Natalie's voice was soft.
"Sometimes," John replied, his voice echoing up from the cavern of his chest. "But that was a long time ago."
Natalie mulled his answer over in her mind for a few seconds, a smile of satisfaction creeping over her lips. She was genuinely surprised that the idea of John still thinking of Caitlin occasionally didn't bother her after all. Maybe she had matured without even realizing and quietly she pushed the whole thing from her mind, turning her attention back to John's body beneath her.
"This is my favorite scar," Natalie announced proudly, smiling against his skin. Tilting her head downward, she pressed her lips over John's scar punctuating her claim with a kiss.
"And why is that?" John smiled lazily, his hands folded behind his head.
Raising her head, Natalie folded her arms across his chest and rested her chin on top of them so she could look into his eyes. "This is my favorite scar because it brought you into my life."
"It did," John replied, his voice heavy with sleep. Why did sleep come so quickly to a man immediately after sex?
Smiling Natalie rolled off of John and scooted up until she was tucked against him in the crook of his arm. The sun had long since set and the first stars were starting to flicker to life above. A cool evening breeze began to blow, soft and refreshing. Reaching over Natalie pulled one of the blankets up and over them both, their feet and arms the only parts peaking out.
"Beautiful," Natalie breathed as she watched the stars above.
Beside her John nuzzled his face against the side of her hair, a soft snore bubbling up from deep within him. With a soft giggle Natalie closed her eyes. John was right. Let the rest of the world think what they wanted to of her, of the two of them. It didn't matter how they had gotten to this point, what dangers they'd faced, what games they had appeared to play. They were here now, together, and that's all that would ever matter.
Fin.
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© 2006
Special thanks to Angela and Manda for their feedback with this story
Ok well that's it… I hope you enjoyed it just the same. Remember, all feedback is welcome of course! It's the only way I'll get any better so feel free to drop me a comment at divine. (Just be sure to say something about "fanfic" in the subject so I don't mistake it for spam! )