The steady beep of machines maintained his doze. He blinked but nothing made him want to open his eyes. Pain wracked his body and the thought of breathing exhausted him. So he wove in and out of consciousness to the gentle stroke of a finger over his hand. The only constant in the flux of voices and machine noises was the hold over his hand. A hold he used to pull himself painfully back to life as he finally risked consciousness.
John opened his eyes and managed the first deep breath without his body crying out in pain. Bright lights left the room almost a glare of white around him but when he blinked again, taking another breath, and his vision cleared. Each detail took on a bit more life until the light was not so bright, the window not quite so large, and the pain in his body a dull throb instead of a grinding weight.
Another breath gave him the strength to tip his head down enough to see whose hand held his. He blinked, holding himself still as he fought down the urge to sob. To sob at the cruel joke Bricker played on him now. At the treatment that would only lead to more pain. The very thought leaving him almost in apoplexy as his breaths came too quickly and too shallowly so as to leave him blinking at the spots dotting his eyes while he jerked his hand loose from the gentle fingers running over his skin. To try and stop the pain before it could start.
"John!" The machines beeped rapidly and a familiar voice called out to him as John flailed in place and searched vainly for an escape. He tried to chase the voice as a way to ground him but the lack of air kept him from focusing. Spots grew as they darkened before his eyes and John lost control of his movements. The last thing he gauged was the rapid rise and fall of his chest before he blacked out.
Minutes, or perhaps hours, later John opened his eyes again. The cavernous sound of his breathing alerted him to the mask covering his mouth and nose but all John could smell was the manure and damp of the bags over his head. Straps tightened around his face and he struggled to pull at the oxygen mask that pumped straight O2 into his lungs, loosing himself in the smells that were not even there as his mind flailed for the source of the smells.
Tugging at it, trying to free his nose and mouth, John only managed to raise his blood pressure and twist the elastic bands now digging into his skin. When John's breath started coming faster again, threatening a higher dose of the oxygen flooding the mask, his fingers slipped over the plastic and he almost surrendered to the sensations to sink back into unconsciousness. But just as he prepared to succumb to despair, another set of hands helped him remove the mask as a flurry of nurses rushed to try and soothe him.
John fought at them too, trying to stop them grabbing him or taking anything from him or threatening him. He wanted to keep them away from him. To stop the torture and the pain before it could start.
A hand grabbed his in the scuffle, her voice calling over the others that called out numbers and orders from those trying to subdue him, and clutched tightly to John's hand. He focused on that grip, fighting through the crush of medical personnel, and his eyes landed on Anna. His fingers tightened around hers and she pushed the nurses away to give them some room.
They tried to argue with her but Anna managed to get them back far enough, using her elbows to push them away, and finally gave them some room. John's breathing calmed and he wrapped his hand around one of Anna's as her other wrestled to untangle the mask from John's face. His head flicked, as if trying to get all traces of it off, and Anna tightened her grip on John's hand to force him to focus back on her. John's eyes found hers and twitched slightly when her free hand rested on his chest. But the beat of his heart soon matched hers and they breathed in sync as Anna nodded at him with a smile.
"There. I told them you didn't need something as ridiculous as a sedative. And I recommended against the oxygen but you blacked out and they wanted to make sure you didn't fall into a coma." Anna rubbed her free hand over John's, tracing the scars there for a moment. "I tried calling to you but… But I don't think you heard me through all that chaos."
"I heard you." John wiped at his eyes with his free hand, his breath choking for a moment as he tried to settle in the world around him and the bed that threatened to suffocate him like an overgrown marshmallow. "I thought… I thought it was another one of Bricker's tricks."
"What?" Anna shook her head, "What kind of trick?"
"He used to… He'd set things… Noise and lights and cold and hot and… And there was nothing I could do." John stuttered to breathe. "I thought he just found a new way to torment me."
"Don't worry about him."
"No?" John tried to breathe, putting his free hand over Anna's on his chest before letting it flop back onto the bed. "Why's that?"
"Because Bricker's tossed in a hole that I'm not sure he'll ever crawl out of if there's any justice in this world. So you don't ever need to worry about him again." Anna put her hand up to wipe at his eyes before John could reach them, her fingers smoother than his. "He's gone, John and he's never coming back for you. He's not coming back for anyone ever again."
"I thought… I can't…" John's voice cracked and he covered his face with his hands. Even with his hands over his eyes, trying to dab at his tears, he saw Anna withdraw for a second to shoo away the nurses and the doctor who managed to come into the room. She did not let them be until the room was left to only them before returning to John's side.
"There, we're all by ourselves." Anna stood next to his bed, "We don't have to worry about anyone listening to whatever we're saying."
John nodded, swallowing to trying to clear his throat so he could speak. But no words came out at volume. Anna leaned closer at his urging and gripped him tighter when John clung to her hand. His voice broke as he whispered, "I thought it was a trick. He used to play tricks on me and… And I thought this was one of them."
"It's not." Anna shook her head emphatically, kissing over his hand before holding to him. "It's not a trick John. This is real. I'm real. You're here and safe and we're together. It's all in the past."
"It's not." John shook his head, almost stuffing his face into the pillow with each twist. "It's not in the past Anna. It's right here. It's right now. It's-"
"It's not John. We're here together and there's nothing to be afraid of and-"
"It's not over Anna." John shook his head, his breathing restricting again and he struggled to keep himself conscious. "It's all right here and I'm-"
Anna held to his hands and half-climbed onto the bed as John shifted and curled into a fetal position. But he could not hold the position as it tugged at stiches in his sides and sent fire down his leg. He retracted and spasmed as pain flared throughout his body and only Anna leaning over him stopped John from sobbing outright at the aches moving through his limbs. The tears ran freely down his cheeks all the same and Anna wiped each of them away.
"It's going to be alright, John. We're together and it's all over."
"It's not over, Anna." John tapped at his temple, "It's all right here. It's right in front of me. Any time I close my eyes it's all I can see and it's all around me. I can't escape it. I can't get away from it. I'm… I'm just waiting for it all to be a dream. For none of it to be real."
"It is real, John." Anna managed to crawl beside him on the bed and John suddenly realized he needed to account for a dimensional change as his hand met his abdomen sooner than he expected. She took that hand and pressed it flat against the life growing there. "This is real, John."
John's hand trembled and flexed slightly. His other arm wrapped around Anna to hold himself against her as he finally let his tears flow. They shook his whole body as John's hand stayed on her abdomen and the fingers of his other hand tightened in her shirt. Her hands moved over him as she whispered in his ear.
"This is what's real, John."
They held to one another, rocking until John settled and he finally breathed over the roughness in his throat. His hand stayed on Anna's abdomen, caressing it as they settled together and tried to find a position on the hospital bed that would allow a woman as pregnant as Anna was to remain next to her healing husband. It eased them both and John finally cleared his throat enough to speak.
"When did you know?"
"I… It's been a bit." Anna took a breath, her hand resting over John's on her protruding belly. "But I need to be honest with you John. About this and everything and… We just need to be honest with each other."
"Honest how?"
Anna swallowed, her other hand holding to John's. "We've both been through things that… That will be difficult to tell people about. Things… Things we're still recovering from and might take awhile to let us come back to who we really are."
"Did something…" John fought to clear the itch in his throat. "Did something happen to you while I was away?"
"So much happened to me since we left each other, John." Anna took a breath. "And maybe you don't have the words to tell me yet and I might have trouble telling you but… But we'll try, yes?"
"Of course." John nodded, holding Anna closer. "But… I don't know if I'm ready to tell you what happened to me yet much less find the words for it."
"I understand."
"Because…" John closed his eyes, steadying his breathing as his hands shook holding Anna's. "Because I'm not comfortable on this bed."
"Do you need me to move or-"
"It's not you." John held tighter to Anna when she almost moved away. "It's the bed. I feel like I'm going to sink to the floor. I want… I want to be on the floor. I can't sleep on this. That's just the first thing."
"The first thing to tell me?" John nodded quickly, tars coming back to his eyes as he tried to put his face to the pillow. But it almost swallowed him and he tried to rescue himself. When he noticed Anna looking at him, John tried to hide his face.
She stopped him, taking his hands before they could cover his face. "You don't have to hide from me. Don't hide any of this from me."
"I… I just don't know how to tell you why but… But I can't sleep on this bed. I can't get comfortable here. I need something… Stiffer. Something that's more like a floor. An…" John shook his head, "I can't be on this bed."
Anna frowned at him, as if trying to understand, and then nodded. "I'll be right back, I promise."
John nodded, barely releasing his hold on her, and watched Anna walk to the door. She opened it to speak quietly to a nurse but when the nurse started shaking her head Anna left the room and shut the door. Even through the wall John almost made out the words Anna practically shouted at someone who tried to argue with her. It took another minute for Anna's voice to lower and she came back into the room. The smile on Anna's face had John rising slightly and then gaped as a few orderlies entered the room. They came over to John's bed to each take an end while others unfolded a tri-folded pad onto the floor.
Holding himself still, John stiffened as they moved him from the bed and onto the pad. It was just large enough to cover his length from head to foot. Anna stood by the door as John settled on the pad while the orderlies brought in another pad and laid it next to his. Smiling at the orderlies before dismissing them and, to John's blinking surprise, Blake, Anna shut everyone else out of the room.
Rejoining him on the floor, maneuvering carefully, Anna scooted closer to him and positioned herself on her side to face him. "Is this better?"
"It's better." John blinked tears away, trying to laugh as he wiped at them. "I'm crying more than I've done in years."
"You can cry in front of me." Anna moved as close as she could, intertwining their fingers. "And, when you're ready, you can tell me anything. Everything, if you can, but only when you're ready."
"I hope…" John swallowed, "I hope you're not about to tell me that you think that I'm not ready to hear what happened to you."
"It's not about that."
"Because I can bear it…" John sighed, "It might help me to forget mine for a time. To find something else to remember that's not my pain."
"I'm not sure my pain will help."
"Then… You're not ready to tell me?"
"No, it's not that I'm not ready to tell you." Anna shook her head. "I need to tell you. I just… Mrs. Hughes is the only one who actually knows. And she knows because she found me after… I've never had to tell anyone."
"No one?"
"No one. Not even the police… We didn't tell them because after he went overboard we were afraid that they'd think I had a hand in it and I didn't want the heat it would bring down. It would've interrupted me trying to help find you and it would've… It would've ruined everything so we decided not to tell anyone."
"Tell anyone what, Anna?" John frowned, "Who went overboard?"
Anna took a breath, closing her eyes. "The Captain on the boat we used, the research vessel, took a shine to me when I first got on board. And when he found out I was married he… I avoided him but he attacked me in the kitchen. I tried to fight back but I couldn't. I couldn't get away and he…" Anna swallowed hard and finally opened her eyes. "He raped me, John."
"And then went overboard?"
Anna nodded, "I don't know exactly what happened. I hurt my head and I don't remember everything so I-"
John put his fingers delicately on her lips, meeting her eyes. "You don't have to tell me. If you don't want to, you never have to tell me."
"I don't want it to be something between us."
"It couldn't be. Not ever." They were silent for a moment. John's hand reached out to brush across Anna's abdomen. He focused there as he spoke, "Did he hurt the baby? I know… I know he hurt you but… But did he hurt the baby?"
"No, I don't think so." Anna shook her head. "And, for awhile, I wondered if the baby might be his but I don't think the timing's right to be his."
"So it's mine?"
"I think so but I haven't checked so I'm… I'm not sure."
"You don't have to be sure."
"No?"
"No." John shook his head, hand firming for a second on her abdomen. "This baby is ours. Our future and what we'll hold onto when we're…"
"Underwater?" John blinked at her and Anna shrugged. "It's the best thing I could come up with but we can use it as a way to signal when we're not okay and we need time or space because we're-"
"Underwater." John nodded, "And, when I'm a bit more ready, I can tell you what happened to me. Until then I'll be… Underwater."
"I can't say I'll like that but," Anna interlaced their fingers. "I want that. I don't want there to be secrets between us."
"Me either." John let the fingers of his other hand move to her hair, caressing it gently. "What happened to him? After he went overboard, that is."
"The Captain?" John nodded again and Anna sighed, "Drowned, they think."
"What?"
"I was trying to get away from him after he tried to corner me near some equipment. The storm came up and I was trying to get inside before he could get to me again. But the ship was pitching and he… He tried to trap me but I got away and he…" Anna shuddered. "I don't know what happened to him. It's why Dr. Hughes and I never told anyone what happened. We were afraid that him going overboard might implicate me as a suspect, since I was the last one seen with him, and since it was ruled an accident at the time I… I just thought I dodged a bullet."
"So he's dead?"
"They never found a body but I don't think he's survived three months." Anna sighed, managing a little laugh. "What lives we lead right?"
"What lives for sure." John agreed as he settled onto his mat. "But we'll… We'll get through this. Whatever this is, we'll get through it."
"I know." Anna cuddled closer, holding to him as if to invite him to hold to her. When John did she evened her breathing and John held her even tighter, still conscious of the baby between them, and tried to match the steadiness in her breathing. To sleep as easily as she seemed to.
But nothing stopped the nightmares. He woke in the middle of the night, every night he was at hospital, crying out or flailing or sobbing that he was back in the cell. Every time the temperature dropped or increased he flinched and twitched before struggling to cover the action so those in the room would not mention it. Their downcast eyes told him all he needed to know and John retracted deeper into himself. Each time he slept next to Anna on the floor, despite the doctors' persistent recommendations to the contrary, John managed a few more hours but most nights he tossed and turned before waking up to cry in the dark.
And for as much as he tried to hide his frustrations with his lack of mental progress, with his constant nightmares, with his immediate stiffening at loud noises or bright lights, or mounting irritations with the limits of his body as he grudgingly took use of a cane, John noted Anna hiding herself away. Her nightmares were not as obvious as his own, but she cried in her sleep or twitched and flinched away from his touch when not fully conscious. Her ears perked at news reports of found bodies and she never mentioned her work.
It was almost as if they unconsciously dismissed one another's worries while burrowing deeper into their own. All of their conversations turned to small talk and little details of the house in Leeds until they found themselves alone there. Alone and unable to speak to one another, unable to almost look at one another, and excepting the way they held one another as they cried while claiming to be fine, they barely touched. Each day they slipped away from one another as they sunk further and further underwater.
John spent his days slowly debriefing with Henry or Blake, as they came to the house and spoke until John could not physically speak any longer. Both of them pressed around the edges of his experience until John finally exploded at both of them that he never broke and gave nothing away. Neither of them came to see him after that and John snapped his cane over his bad leg in anger at himself. It set back his physical therapy by a few weeks but Anna said nothing as she drove him there and helped him practice at home.
She never pushed him and, after awhile, John wished she would. But it would be a lie to say he did the same. For all their talk of honesty when he was at hospital, they were not honest with one another. They slept in the same bed, occupied the same house, and yet were so far apart they could have been back where they were over video chat and they still would not be as far apart as they were sitting at the same table for dinner.
He never pushed her either. Never asked why she seemed despondent in terms of the baby growing inside her. Why she had yet to gather the accouterments for the baby or hold a shower. All the little things she did were stop-gap measures and each of them screamed of an inability to accept the rounding of her shape. A shape John wondered if she really believed was his.
But he buried that too. They spoke of it as if it was their hope and, when the doctor said they would have a girl, John immediately suggested it for the name. It only bound them together for a moment, however, and soon they were back to living in the same house as distant roommates and nothing more.
It was not until John answered the persistent knocking at his door, his hand still adjusting to the new form of his cane as he tried to move as quickly as his leg would allow, that he finally realized the weight of the reality before him. Mary stood there, sopping wet, and immediately seized his hand to drag her with him. John tried to fight her off, to rescue keys to the house or a jumper, but she tugged him along to her car before he finally managed to escape her grip.
"Are you mad?" He hissed as he landed wrong on his leg and had to adjust his stance while wrestling into his jumper with one arm. "What's gotten into you?"
"Anna got in an accident. Slick roads and…" Mary pushed John toward the car. "We've got to get to hospital you idiot."
John hurried into the car, wondering if the stove was off before realizing all of their meals at the house for the past month had been microwaved or from a cereal box. "What? What happened?"
"She was driving back from her classes and… Did no one call you?"
"I've not got a phone." John shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek at the one still wrapped in plastic on the bathroom counter where he left it when Anna gave it to him. The phone he was supposed to use to call her if he needed her while she was at work. "It's… It's not on."
"Well her car got hit by a lorry with faulty brakes. They rushed her to A&E-"
"Is she still-"
"She's alive but they're… They're afraid for the baby, John. The steering wheel column collapsed and… I don't know the details. Sybil's the doctor, not me, and I'm… I'm just trying to get you there as soon as possible."
Mary took the rain-stained roads faster than John thought wise, his hand white from clutching to the bar over the door, and her tires squealed as they fishtailed in front of the hospital entrance. A blonde-haired man waited there and took Mary's emphatic instruction to get John inside as quickly as possible before peeling off to park somewhere. And John followed the familiar strange as quickly as his mismatched feet could carry him to the room where Anna laid out on a hospital bed, weeping quietly into the pillow.
Leaving the man at the door, John hobbled his approach to Anna's bedside and gingerly took her right hand with his left. Either the touch of skin-to-skin or the cold of the metal on his finger alerted Anna to John's presence and she turned to him. But instead of words, all she managed were tears before burying her face in John's abdomen to dampen his sweater with her tears instead of the rain.
John managed the difficult climb to get himself into bed next to Anna, remembering the way they mimicked the same pose just weeks prior, and held to Anna as she cried. When she finally managed breaths not interrupted by hiccups, Anna raised her face to see John. The scratches and cuts on her face mostly bore the treatment of superficiality. Only two had butterfly bandages while the rest shined with the application of dissolving adhesive spray. These he barely touched as he stroked over her face to try and remove some of her tears.
"I lost her." John blinked at Anna's words and furrowed his brow in confusion. "She's… They said it was a miracle she lasted as long as she did since… Since what happened on the ship left me with incompetent cervix, but the car… John I lost Hope."
John clutched Anna closer, his hand finally registering the lack of weight at her abdomen as their bodies held closer together than they had before. Her body wracked with sobs and screams she buried in his sweater as John held her closer. Kisses to her hair, her face, and her forehead were nothing to her as John's tears wetted her hair and they cried there together.
Cried until they could only hold one another and rock slightly on the bed. But when Anna pushed John away slightly, he stiffened. She shook her head but John refused to relax as Anna swallowed to speak.
"It's my fault."
"What?"
"I… I should've gotten checked when… I didn't because I was afraid and… This is all my fault, John."
"It's not." John seized for Anna's hands and shifted onto his left side to ease the tweaking pressure on his right. "This isn't your fault, Anna. It's an accident. They happen all the time and we'll-"
"Get through it together?" Anna's laugh held no humor or joy. "Like we got through what happened to us already."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean," Anna shook her head, "Maybe we didn't deserve her. We didn't deserve Hope."
"Don't say that Anna."
"But it's true, isn't it?" She wiped so hard at her tears John feared she might take the skin off her cheek in the attempt. "We're both so broken. And not just physically now but… We're damaged beyond repair and we haven't tried to fix it."
"It's not something you fix so easily. It's-"
"We've been lying to ourselves, John. And worse, we've lied to one another." Anna sniffed, trying to stave off more tears as she spoke. "We both have nightmares we don't talk about. Any time we try to broach the subject we dither and deviate. You don't sleep on our bed because you're afraid you'll sink through it so you sleep on the floor and it's causing trouble with your therapy. I didn't buy anything Hope needed because part of me was so afraid she'd look like him I couldn't bear it."
John stayed silent as Anna struggled past the hitch in her breathing to find the words to speak more. "We're still not telling one another when we're in trouble or underwater and… And we're sinking, John. We're sinking and yet we're right next to each other but we've refused. For whatever reason we've refused to be helped and now we're… Now it's all too much."
"Are you…" John swallowed to clear his throat, struggling past the catch there. "What are you saying, Anna?"
"I'm saying…" Anna closed her eyes, as if steeling herself for what they both knew needed to be said but not how to respond to it. "I'm saying that maybe we're too broken to make each other whole."
"Do you believe that?"
"Don't you?"
'No." John shook his head and took Anna's hands in his. "I could never believe that. I don't and I won't and I can't. It's not true."
"We can't fix this, John." Anna's hands held to his, refusing to let go. "We can't make this better."
"We can and we will." John swallowed, blinking through his fresh tears. "We'll go somewhere we've only got good memories. We'll go where none of this will haunt us and we'll mend each other. We'll… It'll be like kintsugi."
"What?"
"The Japanese practice a tradition where a broken piece is mended with gold. It makes the cracks shine brighter and tells you that yes, this is broken but it's whole now and stronger for having been broken." John took a breath. "I've not been honest with you, Anna, and I'm sorry. I've not pushed back or let you help me and I… I don't want to do that anymore. I want to work for this… If you still do."
"I always wanted to." Anna scooted closer to him. "I just worried that you didn't anymore. That you'd given up."
"On me, for awhile, yes. But never on you." John held her. "We've not exactly played this fair or equal, have we?"
"No."
"Then I promise, here and now, on…" John risked a hand to Anna's slightly deflated abdomen. "On the memory of Hope, that we'll get through this."
"I want that." Anna covered John's hand there, adding pressure. "I want to do this for Hope."
"For hope."
