And here it is, last chapter before the epilogue! I hope this was worth the wait! You all rock!
Chapter 43
John had a headache.
The kind of headache that attacked the ridge between his eyebrows with pinpoint precision.
With a grunt, John threw the covers back and rolled off the bed, stumbling into the bathroom. He did his business and after washing his hands grabbed a bottle of ibuprofen from the medicine cabinet. He had a glass sitting on the edge of the sink which he filled up to help down the pill. Clearing his eyes, he got a good look at himself in the mirror, eyes transfixed on the hook scar.
He couldn't ignore the past anymore. It was a part of him, always would be.
John wasn't broken.
He saw that now.
Wanda had been right, this was a badge of strength, of survival.
It wasn't his fault his father beat him.
Maybe... maybe he could have fought back, maybe that would have worked and not garnered further beatings or death, but he couldn't live in what if's or self-loathing wishes. No, John was a Knight, that was the story he was going to write for himself from now on.
Wanda!
Abruptly he remembered she came over last night, or was it earlier that night, he didn't even know what time it was. The last thing he remembered was the woman holding him as he cried... so how had he gotten out of his shoes and socks, his phone and wallet taken out of his jeans?
Walking back into the bedroom, he spotted his shoes sitting neatly at the end of the bed, his shirt thrown in his open hamper, his socks likely underneath. On the nightstand was his wallet and phone. Next to his stuff was a folded piece of black fabric, a woman's small purse and high heels sitting on top. His digital clock was glaring 10:23pm.
The last thing his mind registered was Wanda, laying above the covers on his bed, curled onto her side. She had removed her slacks and shoes, they were sitting on the nightstand of course, but her button up blouse was long enough to come down far enough to protect her modesty, even though it had ridden up a bit.
He knew he was staring, he knew it was rude, but he really couldn't help himself. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
Wanda's eyes fluttered opened and she turned her head towards him, he tried not to look guilty.
"Hey," she said a little drowsily, propping herself up on one elbow, "how you feeling?"
"I'm good," he smiled idly and went over to the nightstand to check his phone, not really expecting anything important, but he needed to stop staring, "well, a bit of a headache."
"Dehydrated from all that crying," she commented, sitting up in the bed now, "do you want some water?"
"I just had a glass, thanks," John realized he could see a little bit of black lace sticking out from under Wanda's purse and he remembered how she pressed up against him, "about earlier..."
"I hope I didn't overstep myself," there was a touch of fear in her voice.
"No, no, you didn't at all," he assured her, turning towards the bed, sitting down sideways with one leg on, one dangling. "I needed that connection, you know? To feel something other than pain for once."
She nodded her understanding, giving him a pretty smile which turned into a blush as she pursed her lips, eyes darting around as if it just occurred to her she was laying half-naked in his bed with him in just his jeans, "It's late," she said and slipped off the bed, coming around quickly to her stuff on the nightstand, "I should get going."
John reached out and gently tugged at the sleeve of her shirt, words coming out of his mouth before he even realized what he was thinking, "You could stay."
He knew he didn't have a right to ask, hell, he didn't even know what he was asking. His body very much recognized her state of dress and the intimacy they had already shared. His soul ached for the woman he loved, just to be near her again, if only to lay beside her.
But it didn't matter what he wanted, only what she would give, if anything at all.
…
Wanda had no idea what he was asking, did he want her to stay the night so he wouldn't be alone, or did he want to finish what they had started all those years ago?
His hand dropped to his lap and he seemed confused by his own words, little frown lines around his eyes that he'd get when he was trying to figure something out. Of course he was lost, he had just bared his soul, shared apart of himself with her, felt physical touch that wasn't pain…
That thought rang across her mind, and even though part of her whispered it was a bad idea, the greater whole never wanted John to feel the lack of touch ever again. She would not let him retreat back into his shell.
Turning towards him, she nestled between his knees, her hands ghosting across his cheeks until they rested on the nape of his neck. Gently she pulled him against her, placing his head sideways between her covered breasts, and began to caress his shoulders, slowly working her way down his back. She could feel him tense slightly, but he wrapped his arms around her waist and held her, taking deep, even breaths.
Despite their delicate position, John made no move to deepen the intimacy of the moment. He let himself be held, like before, only this time without the emotional release he so desperately had needed. Now he could enjoy touch… her touch.
"Wanda," he looked up at her, whatever he was about to say dying in this throat.
Maybe she had leaned into him, perhaps he pushed up against her, the mechanics didn't really matter as once their lips were on each others, that was all it took.
…
John was intoxicated.
The woman he loved was pressed up against his body, lips fighting for dominance, every breath he took he shared with hers. He scooted back as Wanda straddled his lap, her hands all over him, touching him, making him feel.
Finding himself in dire need of air, John moved down her jaw, attacking the spot below her ear. Wanda moaned out as she continued to writhe against him. He lifted his hand to the top button of her shirt, "Please," he nearly begged, needing to feel her flesh against his once again.
"Yes," she said breathlessly and he wasted no time revealing her beautifully body as he pushed the shirt off her shoulders only for it to get caught on her elbows as she wouldn't stop in her caressing.
Standing up, her legs and arms wrapped around him, he quickly turned and laid her back on the bed properly. He proceeded to bestow a thousand and one kisses on her body, not being able to get enough of her. Wanda's hands never left him, running from front to back, sometimes chasing scars, sometimes just trying to keep up.
John was a dying man who had found the nectar of the gods.
Her hand moved to his jeans, popping the button so she could push the fabric off his hips. A bit awkwardly he shimmed out of them without taking his hands off her, he never wanted to let her go. His body was on fire, where once he felt pain there were now only delirious pleasures.
An important point knocked at the door of his brain, he was almost at the mind not to answer, but when he did, he was both glad and annoyed he had.
Stilling himself above her, he buried his head against her shoulder, "I don't have any condoms."
Wanda went slack as the words registered to her and he very much doubted she would decide to forgo protection.
Another thought popped into his mind and he snapped up as he realized something, "Wait, I might." Kissing her quickly over her heart, purely by chance than choice, John literally rolled off the bed, kicking away his jeans which were still stuck to one foot, and bounded into the bathroom.
Hopefully he hadn't thrown it away…
…
Wanda sat up as she watched John stumble his way into the bathroom after possible prophylactics.
As the adrenaline of the moment faded away, it was if all the blood drained from her extremities and she became cold, pulling her slightly tangled blouse around to cover herself.
Was she really going to have sex with him?
"Remy got me this apartment-warming gag-gift," John walked back in nothing but his flame boxers, which hid nothing by the way, and a string of five, maybe six, foil packets. Whatever he was going to say next died on his lips as he took in her appearance. She could see him hit the same wall she just had, the color draining from his face, "I am so stupid," slight panic filled his eyes, "I didn't even ask you if you... I didn't... I just assumed... I am so so sorry."
"It's okay," she assured him though her voice was a bit shaky, "you were caught in the moment, we both were."
"That's no excuse," he started to awkwardly fumble with the condoms, tossing them on top of his dresser, "you were just trying to comfort me and I took advantage of that."
"I'm pretty sure we were taking advantage of each other," she said wryly, distinctively remembering it was her who decided his jeans had to go, it seemed like a good idea at the time. "I'm not mad at you, you were even thinking of protection, thank you, if anything, I'm mad at myself."
"No, don't be," he moved forward and sat on the edge of the bed, "you have nothing to be mad at. I was pushing you."
"And I let you," she shook her head, bowing and drawing her legs up a bit, "I wanted you to."
There was a small pause, "You… wanted me to?"
"I've always desired you, John," she told him bluntly, "I never denied that."
His jaw worked slowly, then he said, "I love you," then his eyes widened, "sorry, I meant to say something more 'I think you're hot' and less 'emotional blackmail'."
The pure sincerity in his voice at his slip, tinged with panic and quasi-joke, made Wanda bark out a short laugh, "See, this is why I'm mad, you have this way of disarming me, of making me want to throw caution out the window."
He furrowed his brow, "Then wouldn't I be the one to blame?"
"I should be in control of myself," she sighed, "I shouldn't be deciding on a whim to sleep with my ex-boyfriend who just went through a very emotional moment in his life."
John thought about it for a second, "No, still pretty sure it's my fault."
"Ugh, stop being so damn cute," she was getting frustrated, at herself, at him, at everything, "it just makes this more complicated."
"Sorry," he apologized, "I don't want you to be mad at yourself."
Wanda sighed, "I want you to stop taking the blame for everything."
"I will if you'll stop trying to control everything," he snapped back then his eyes went wide again.
"Wow," she said softly, "you have changed," he never would have been confrontational before, not to mention sit around in nothing but a pair of shorts.
"I didn't mean it like that," he apologized, rubbing the back of his neck, "I… you should probably go, I thank you for everything you did tonight, I owe you so much, but you're right, it's been a really emotional day."
"But what about tomorrow?" she asked after she thought about it, "And the day after?"
John looked up at her and at not being able to read her face he gave a slight shake of his head to denote his non-understanding.
"Truth is," Wanda took the plunge, "I miss you, talking to you, hanging out..."
"I missed you too," he scooted a little closer, "we can be friends again."
"Can we?" she gestured to the bed, "We nearly had sex just now."
She could see he was hard at work trying to come back from that one, "Extenuating circumstances?"
"I wouldn't even try that in court," she frowned.
His face fell, "Then I guess this is it, two ships passing in the night, one saving the other from the rocks."
"All ships return to their home port, eventually," she said the words mostly to herself, but it made John frown again, not understanding. Idly she admitted, "I've never slept with anyone."
"Oh," he said oddly, clearing his throat, "I assumed you had," and when she glanced up, "I don't mean anything by that, I just figured, after all this time, at least Victor, you were dating him for awhile."
"You never asked?" she was surprised he never said anything to Remy or Marie.
"Not my place," he shrugged lightly, avoiding her eyes.
His sweetness made her blush.
They both jumped as noise filled the room. John's phone vibrated on the nightstand and he reached over, silencing it, "Just Remy, he has no concept of time."
Wanda's phone went off and again they jumped. She ended up knocking her shoes off the nightstand and possibly gave John and eyeful, but she slipped her phone out of her bag. "It's Marie."
John's phone went off again and they both looked down at the offending items, then back at each other.
"Not again," Wanda sighed and rolled her eyes.
"I don't know about Rogue," John said, "but Remy will keep calling until he gets an answer."
She gave him a frown denoting that she knew the problem well.
As the ringtones filled the air between them, they glanced at each other, at their phones, then back at each other. Wordlessly they held their phones out for the other to take.
"Why is she being so stubborn?!" Wanda didn't even get a chance to say hello before Remy went off after she answered the phone. "We're good together, we practically live together, it's a foregone conclusion for Pete's sake. What is so wrong with wanting to make this legit?!"
"So you're saying there's something illegitimate about your current relationship with Marie?" Wanda asked wryly.
There was stunned silence on the other end, until, "Wa-Wanda?"
"It seems to me," she ignored his stutter, "that you're pushing this marriage business way too much."
Remy began to sputter and she heard John say, "Okay, this is Pyro, and I didn't really need to know that."
After Remy finished his rant about how he was not being pushy and being completely respectful, he said, "Why do you have John's phone?"
"Because he has mine," she answered before saying, "and you're not being respectful Remy. Marie has told you time and again her stance on your marriage proposals, how she believes you only ask because you think that's something you need to do, instead of want to do, and you ignore that, you think if you just wait a little longer, she'll forget or something."
"That's not it at all," there was a small pause, "okay, maybe that's part of it. I mean, I am waiting because I don't get it. I need this and I want this. I need her and I want to be with her. I really don't see a difference between the two. Why does John have your phone?"
"Because we were trying to have a conversation and you and Marie had to rudely interrupt," she sighed.
"I understand that, Rogue," John said into her phone, "but at Remy's heart is a very conflicted Catholic, and he's not entirely lapsed, those sense of morals run deep even if he doesn't realize them himself."
"Wait, so, you're with him, at eleven at night?" Remy was suddenly more interested in her and John than his breakup with Marie. "Did you two make up?"
"Remy, I'm going to do you a favor," she decided to just tell him straight, "Marie has commitment issues and you promising to commit to her with marriage doesn't actually help."
"You're avoiding the question!" he paused, "What you mean doesn't help?"
"Commitment goes both ways," she explained, "if you commit to her, she has to commit to you."
"Marie would never be unfaithful!" of this he seemed absolutely sure.
"You know that, but do you think she does? In her heart?" she shook her head, "Her family is full of messed up relationships and step-siblings. You don't think Marie is afraid to follow in her parents footsteps? That she'll be the one to screw it all up? Right now, it's easy for her not to think about it, but if she gets married there will be kids and she doesn't want the same things to happen to them as did to her."
"Oh," he took a second to think about that, "you mean like how you're not getting into any physical relationships right now because your family is really bad at them?"
That stung as it hit way to close to home for her.
Perhaps that was exactly it, she was afraid of relationships, of getting hurt, of all the pain… pain that she could only imagine. In that way she was no better than John. She lived with the pain of being alone because it was comfortable, it had no risks… it was easy.
"I'm only saying you need to look closer at why his proposals cause so much of a reaction out of you," John told Marie, "why are you that much against it?"
"If you want to marry Marie," she took a breath, "then you need to wait for Marie to come to you and tell you that she's ready."
"What?" there was a bit of a strangled noise on the other end of the phone.
"When Marie is ready to commit, she will tell you," Wanda explained, "but you pushing her only keeps her from making any progress."
This ironically was the opposite problem she had with John. She didn't push him enough, not in the right ways, because she didn't want to hurt him, didn't want to break him, she cared about him too much. The best thing she ever did was break up with him, forced him out into the world to deal with the problem head on.
"I don't want her to think I've lost interest in her," Remy argued, "or in getting married. I want a family, kids and all that."
"There is plenty you can do to show you're still interested in being with her," Wanda replied dryly.
"Yeah, that actually bothers me too," John frowned, "but it's not the most annoying trait he could have all things considered, let's be honest."
"Fine," Remy huffed, "I'll promise to not ask Rogue to marry me again for two years if you answer me one question?"
"Make it three and we have a deal," she had a feeling she knew what he was going to ask.
"Okay, three," he agreed, "now, why are you over at John's this late at night on a work night?"
"He sent me his book and I came over to talk about it," Wanda told him technically the truth which said nothing about John's emotional moment or their make out session or her currently sitting on his bed in nothing but panties and unbuttoned blouse.
"Oh," he sounded really disappointed.
"Remember our deal," she prompted him.
"Yeah, yeah," Remy droned, "three years. But if she breaks up with me I'm taking it out on you."
Wanda chuckled, "Fair enough."
"So, just talking about his book huh?" he asked, "I still haven't read it, any good?"
"It's really good," she smiled as she thought of it, "the kind of story that makes you sad it's over."
"Always the best kind," he laughed, then sighed, "Listen, I know I've said it a million times to Pyro at least, but you two are good together. I know you had a blow out, but that was years ago. I know for a fact Pyro's come a long way, you should give him another chance."
Wanda frowned, "What about me? Why should he give me another chance?"
"Ah," he was at a loss on that one, "because he loves you?"
"Love isn't everything," she countered back.
"You're right, it's not," Remy admitted, "but it makes everything better. A smile, a laugh, even silence."
"And it makes the pain sharper," Wanda countered.
"It does indeed," he sighed softly, "but it's a risk you have to take."
Wanda glanced over at John who laughed at something Marie said, that cute grin on his face. She never denied that physically she was attracted to him, he had this charm about him that was disarming and wonderful. Truth is, she would have slept with him countless times in that last year of school.
But physical attraction wasn't everything. He made her laugh with his jokes and he made her feel with his stories. Sometimes he didn't have to say anything at all, just be there, with her. He gave her a sense of completeness.
There was now no doubt in Wanda's mind that she was in love with John.
But love was a risk.
"Remy, I have to go," she told him shortly.
"Ah, okay," she heard him say right before she hung up.
Sitting John's phone on the nightstand, she sat up on her knees and made sure she had John's attention. Just as he had bared his scars to her, she slowly pulled the blouse off her shoulders to reveal herself to him once again, only she was showing him much more than her body, he just didn't realize it yet.
"I gotta go," John told Marie and fumbled with the phone before quickly shutting it off and setting it to the side.
Wanda reached out to tug him forward but he caught the movement and wasted no time in moving forward and kissing her, his hands caressing down her sides to rest at her hips.
"Please explain to me what's happening," he said against her lips, "I don't want to misinterpret this."
"We can't be friends, we know that," Wanda told him as she idly caressed his hooked scar, "but I want you in my life, I want to be with you."
"You want to start dating again?" he said hopefully with those sincere eyes of his.
"Yes," she whispered with a smile, "it may all end in flames, but it's a risk I'm willing to take because… I… I love you."
John's eyes went as wide as a kid on Christmas morning, his hands reaching up to cup her face, "I love you," his lips descended on hers, pressing their whole bodies against each other.
Breathlessly they rested their foreheads against each other, Wanda biting her lip, "I really want to sleep with you right now, but I'm not sure this is the right time."
"I understand," John agreed, "it's been a very emotional day, for both of us."
"It has," her voice was tired and suddenly she felt the impact of the night's events.
John may be able to show his scars to her but what about the world, could he take that plunge? Wanda may have admitted that she loved John, put her heart out there, but that didn't mean she still wasn't afraid and needed time to adjust.
"Will you at least stay with me?" he asked, gently touching her cheek.
She smiled at him lovingly, "Of course."
Wordlessly they snuggled together under the sheet, John's arm wrapping round Wanda who laid her head on his chest. It didn't take long for the two to fall asleep, the weight of world having been lifted off their shoulders with the promise of tomorrow… whatever it brought them.
GCAH's epilogue takes place before Chellerbelle's GCH epilogue so please wait before heading over there to finish out the stories. Thanks again for reading!
