Chapter 3

It took all of John's strength to keep from fainting in front of Erich before the latter exited the room. His brain refused to answer correctly, his members were completely paralysed by the shock of this terrible news. His hopes going back and forth all day long to finally learn that all he had done had been for nothing. The blow was hard, it was dirty and it was cruel. He could picture his son now, in the van of the health department, riding towards those awful hospitals. It was probably already over for him, surely he was just ashes now. There would be no body, John realised, feeding a little more the pain he was already feeling. He cared little for national tribute, as it only meant that his son would be used as propaganda for the Reich. Oh the country wouldn't be very supportive in the days, probably weeks to come, if only for the benefit and promotion of the propaganda.

He was so deep in his thoughts that he forgot Juliana was still standing here. At least she had had the good reflex of sitting down. Her face half buried in her hands, her mind was racing, searching for a solution, any solution she could come up with. John's was too chocked to think of any of that. Her ability to see the very best in people also allowed her to believe that a fight was never over, no matter how bad the situation. Hijacking the vehicle, infiltrate the hospital disguised as a nurse and kidnap Thomas, crazy ideas were flowing but time, time was not their ally. The urge to share her foolish plans with the father of the boy in question rose and she turned to him, only to see a pale copy of the powerful man she had come to fear and respect over time. There was nothing she recognised in him, not the twinkle of malice in his eyes, not this particular face that was somehow always threatening, no matter the time of day. The ruthless ObergruppenfĂĽhrer was gone, John Smith was gone, before her remained a man gnawed by grief and despair. For now he was at the stage of processing the idea of never seeing his boy ever again, dead or alive.

In her goodness, Juliana didn't even think of the things she had done the day before, all she saw was this young innocent boy, everything he would miss, what he could have accomplished, almost forgetting how he had been raised and what he would have inevitably turned out to become. Surely he aspired to politics, the SS corps and so on, however Juliana liked to entertain the idea that he might have turned his back on nazism. A silly thought really, she realised that. The same way she was starting to accept that there was no plan good enough to save him.

Very slowly she stood up and approached John. She didn't dare touch him, she had never touched him before, not even to say hello. So many times before they had been in each other's company, they had talked, shared diner with his family, yet none of them actually knew how the other felt like. Physical comfort, in times like this, she knew, often felt good when you thought there was nobody around willing to understand your pain. The warm and tight embrace of someone's arms, their hands holding yours, the feel of a solid body against a fragile one. Undeniably, all these little attentions made people feel better for some reasons. Did that mean it worked on John Smith too ? He was all but an ordinary man. Smart, conflicted, ruthless, charming and intimidating. Many times Juliana had tried to put him in a box, to analyse him fully, to this day she found he never fitted anywhere.

There were no tears in his eyes, but the suffering was clear. He was holding them back, not for her though, for himself, his reputation and also, he couldn't afford to be weak. He had decided that a very long time ago, when he was still just a teenager, to never allow himself to break, no matter the circumstances.

Guilt was slowly starting to pour over him. Towards the Reich, Thomas had been loyal to a fault, right to his very end and it was because of his father's too perfect education. His boy was that good, too good and innocent, it felt so unfair that he was the one who had had to go at such a young age.

Helen and John had not lied when they had told him how proud they were of him, Thomas was not just the prefect son every family wished for, he was also a great person. Every single one of his classmates would have said the same, the neighbours, his sisters too. Always willing to help, polite and enthusiastic, not to mention a good student. The Smiths had always been the reference dream family of the American Reich after all, everyone looked up to them and secretly envied the life they were living. Not so much at the moment though. They were living the hardest times since the bombing of Washington DC.

Helen's words kept ringing in his head Your brother had it, now my son has it. He couldn't help but believe he was responsible for it, at least indirectly. He had been spared from this disease for some reasons so why not his son ? And what about the girls, his two precious girls, what if they carried the defect too ? He pushed those thoughts aside as the situation was painful enough as it was.

Finally succeeding to manage some consistent thoughts, John couldn't remember exactly how much time had passed between the day he had learnt about his son's decease and yesterday, everything seemed to have escalated so quickly. With a snap of fingers his life had gone from heaven on earth to a never ending nightmare, he was not used to change and now he hated it.

It was only when Juliana stepped in his field of view that he acknowledged he wasn't the only person in the room and that she had been focused on him for quite a while. Even when vulnerable, she noted, he still looked menacing, always in charge. She had been watching him with those blue eyes that bore more tears than his, almost more regret, for not having been able to do more to save the boy. Neither of them knew what they were supposed to do now, surely staring in each other's soul wasn't the greatest idea so Juliana gathered her courage to make the first step. First she relieved him of the file Erich had brought to him and placed it on the coffee table. It was a miracle he hadn't dropped it on the floor already. Then, tentatively, she put her hand on the expensive material covering his arm and offered him a seat. As always, she noticed, the uniform was impeccable. It suited him and she liked it more than she cared to admit.

Upon their first established physical contact he didn't shift or jerk her hand away, but exhaled loudly, focusing his gaze on a random point of the floor. He was tempted to sit down and talk with her for as long as was needed, to ease the burden but he had to see Helen and the girls. He could only imagine how they were feeling. Had they seen it ? Thomas being taken away by the authorities ? John was picturing the scene now, trying to imagine how it had happened. He hoped, at least, that it hadn't been violent. The outcome was the same anyway but still.

Gently he turned to her, removing her hand but keeping a light hold on it. In other words they were practically holding hands. The act was completely innocent and unbidden but Juliana suddenly found it hard to breathe and she stopped moving completely, waiting for him to proceed.

She tended to forget he was capable of gentleness, she had seen it with his family, but being at the center of it was an entire different experience.

His hands were hot compared to hers, it felt good and for a moment she wished she could enjoy the comfort of it a little longer. That was not his place, to comfort her, she knew. Just as it was not her place to ask comfort from him. However, Juliana couldn't deny the man had always sparked something in her, ever since the day they'd met. Something she had desperately tried to make go away because of his position in the Reich and mostly because of his family, although never succeeded. Lucy Collins had put it perfectly, dreadfully handsome, those were the words for it, for him.

The man in question squeezed her hands between his, catching her attention. He cleared his dry throat

"I should probably go home," he said, his voice breaking a little between each word, "I need to be there." Juliana nodded instantly, attempting to get her hands back, but he held tight on them. She raised questioning brows. John didn't care about George Dixon, in any way, what he understood however was that killing him had been a hard thing to do for Juliana. He just wanted to let her know.

"I'm sorry that your…sacrifices were for nothing, Miss Crain. I know it's not what you do." For a moment she wondered if he was just concerned because he felt emotional at the moment, or if he genuinely cared and saw that she, too, was suffering from his son's death.

"I liked Thomas very much, you know." she said as he released her hands, not really knowing why she was throwing this out there. Probably to let him know that she was more moved by Thomas's demise than having had to kill her sister's father, because truly, she was fond of the boy. He had always been lovely with her, helping her with her tests, sharing stories with her. She had even suspected him of having a teenage crush on her, which was sweet really. There was also the way he talked about things, he was passionate, curious, full of life, it was cruel that the disease had to hit him.

"It's unfair, what happened to him. I'm really sorry." As she recalled a few memories a tear dropped down her cheek, which gave John a strange feeling. Was it odd that she cried for Thomas and he didn't ? The feeling of being simply a cold nazi soldier and not a father when he needed to be crept under his skin and it was intolerable.

"That's very nice of you to say, Miss Crain" he said, trying to ignore his intrusive thoughts and failing miserably

"I mean it, really," wrongly she thought that maybe he was doubting her sincerity, she never was entirely sure with him. At last he met her eyes again, and he saw it, acknowledged it

"I know," he concluded with a slight smile, "I know."

After an awkward moment of staring, John decided it was finally time for them to part.

"I think we both need a good night's sleep, or what's left of it anyway. Erich will drive you home."

Gladly, she accepted the offer and a few minutes later, they were saying goodbye on the headquarters parking lot. Juliana followed Erich in the Mercedes while John took the time to light a cigarette. Soon he was completely alone, standing by his car, trying to decide on whether he really wanted to go home. Not that he wanted to run away from his family duties, quite the contrary in fact, he wanted to be there for them but he felt, he knew, he wouldn't be welcome. Reluctantly he crushed the cigarette under his foot, took his place in the driver's seat and started rolling. Multiple times over, he thought about charging into a tree and see what happened. That would be easy of course, too easy and low for a man like him. Usually he was prepared for anything, had every answer at the ready but now, he was unsure of what was waiting for him at home.

He parked the car but didn't exit right away, resting his forehead on the steering wheel, asking to himself how all of this had happened despite everything he had done to protect his family. Not hoping for an answer and receiving none, he got out and began the long walk towards the door. The light of the kitchen was lit which made him curse under his breath. Never had it been so hard to come home from work, he pushed the door slowly and headed to the kitchen where Helen was sitting.

She almost jumped when she saw him, not having expected him to come back before a few days. A bottle of whisky laid on the table, a full glass sitting next to it. Needless to say it was not the first. The look on her face was one of measured hatred and rejection and John figured he could have slept at the office because clearly, his wife didn't want him here.

"You're still up" he said concerned

"You're back" she dodged, determined not to let him lecture her. She was in no mood, and in no state for that matter.

"I had to be there." Helen laughed in disdain and took a long sip from her drink. Now this was becoming dangerous, John thought as he strode towards his wife and attempted to take the glass from her.

"Oh, you're right about that, John. You had to be there, simply not now !" she grunted with furry, rising from her chair and trying to get away from him as he grabbed her arm. "Stay away from me !" Helen yelled when her palm more or less intentionally connected hard with his cheek. The action made them both stop and stare at each other, breathing hard and realising that all this nonsense was leading nowhere.

John stepped back a bit, leaving his wife some space to breathe.

"Helen, please, put the glass down, I think you've had enough" he said in a calming voice. It was not the first time he had to deal with Helen in this particular state, however the circumstances were slightly different today.

"Yes, I've had enough, John. I've had enough for a lifetime" she answered, not talking about the drink though, but about what was happening to them. Exhaustion was clear on her face and soon she was putting the glass down and falling in John's arms in tears.

They needed that, he as much as her, the comfort of someone's arms. Yes, even John Smith, although that didn't mean he could finally let go. Helen was in an indescribable mess and he would have to pay really close attention to her in the coming days.

When they finally decided to go to bed, they didn't go together. Helen went upstairs but John didn't follow. He felt it was too soon and that despite the fact that she had accepted his embrace earlier, she was still pretty angry with him. He didn't blame her as he felt she had every right to be.

Tiredness overtook him suddenly and he went to sit on the couch to spend what was left of the night. A picture on the wall caught his attention. A family picture. They were all there and they looked so happy. That wasn't so long ago, John remembered, and it hurt like hell.

He took off his boots and socks, unbuttoned his vest and placed it carefully on the backrest, then lowered his suspenders and put his medal on the table before trying to get comfortable on the large couch and undoing the top buttons of his white shirt.

They hadn't done that in a long time, sleeping in separated rooms. After all they had always been the perfect couple, both in public and private. Everything would be different now, oh so very different.

A/N: Phew, that was a tough one to do ! In a way I find it hard to write about John's feelings, especially grief, sadness, etc since you never quite know what he's thinking on the show, he's got that sort of shell around him you know. So this is really my take on it, sorry if that's not what you had in mind.

Thanks to y'all who followed and favoured, and welcome to the new readers, hope you're enjoying this story !