A week later
Basement office
They hadn't talked about Logan or what occurred in the cellar since it happened. Every time Monica tried to broach the subject, John changed it. The fact that all six of the cultists had been indicted for abduction and assault hadn't improved his mood any. That they all appeared to have aged ten years in five days wasn't even mentioned. In fact, he'd been brusque and disagreeable before he'd even found out about that. Her intuition told her that something else was bothering him, but he refused to open up and tell her.
"Are you angry at me, John?" she asked, wanting the tension between them gone.
"You figured it Monica. Congratulations." Truth was, he felt as guilty as hell as to what had almost happened in the hospital, and he'd always believed that attack was the best part of defence.
"Why? Have I done something to upset you?"
"I told you to stay here. But did you listen? Do you ever listen?"
"Contrary to what you like to think John, this is a partnership. Which means that you don't decide which cases I investigate." She retorted, becoming angry herself.
"Well maybe I should, since you obviously don't have the good sense you were born with."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
He took a breath, and realised that these feelings were not born out of guilt or shame, but were very real. "You put yourself in a position where you became a target for those freaks. You put me in a position where –"
"This is my fault now?" she practically screeched at him.
He ignored her outburst and continued. "You put me in a position where I couldn't protect you, and I hated you for it. I hated you for makin' me feel like I failed you, I hated you for makin' me picture you cold and dead, and I hated you for tearin' my heart out. After Luke . . . I never wanted to feel like that again, but you made me experience it all."
Monica's anger fled, as she immediately understood where all the hostility was coming from. She'd scared him. More than that, she'd hurt him. And now he was angry with her for making him so vulnerable.
"It wasn't done on purpose, John." Monica tried to soothe, but he was so enraged that he brushed her response aside.
"But it was done none the less. Don't you understand that you could have been killed? You came so close to dyin'. . . "
"But I didn't. You found me."
"I almost lost you." He whispered.
Monica rose from her chair and repositioned herself on the desk, facing him. "But you didn't. I'm here now, and I'm good."
"An' next time? Next time you might not be so lucky."
"I can't live my life worrying about next time John. I'd miss out on right now. I just have to trust in myself and trust in my partner."
"It's not good enough."
"It's as good as it's gonna get, I'm afraid. Life doesn't come with any guarantees. You make the best of it you can, and if you're lucky you'll live long and prosper. If you're extremely lucky you'll live those years surrounded by the people you love. You can't be worrying about when it's all going to be taken away from you, because one day you'll wake up and find that you've spent your whole life scared of something that didn't happen. And you'll look around for someone to share that revelation with, and find that you're all alone."
There was silence as John thought through this proclamation. He thought about what had happened in the hospital, what he'd almost let happen, and what he wanted to happen in the future. He accepted that the feelings he had for Monica had developed into something more than friendship, and that his angry outburst stemmed not from the guilt of what he'd done, but from the place in his heart that wanted to keep her well and safe. And he thought about what his life would be like if she wasn't in it.
"God help me, Monica, I don't want to live like that." He said finally.
"Then don't." she encouraged.
He studied her for a moment, and then reached out to lace his hand with hers.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you."
She squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry you had to go through that again."
They smiled at each other, drawing comfort from the simple act of holding hands. John took a series of deep breaths, and met her eyes with trepidation.
"Mon? You maybe...you wanna have dinner sometime?"
Her smile widened in response, and he thought he saw a promise of things to come reflected in her eyes.
"I'd like that John. Very much."
End.
Authors Notes: First of all, I have to thank Lisa for the title. And Rae for being a wonderful beta. Without her I never would have written part 15 - I would have just left it out. So everyone send happy thoughts to my great friend Rae. And I really have to thank Leese again for nagging me (motivating me – same thing) for the next part. 'Where's the next part?' 'Have you written any more yet?' 'Can you send me the next bit?' You get the picture. Seriously, you're a legend, mate. :)
There really was a god called Priapus, and he really was enormously endowed. Standard nature for a fertility god. I only found mention of Ayana in one book, and then it was only one line describing the fact that she had three breasts. The cult of Priapus and Ayana were actually said to be able to halt the aging process by their magical practices. (A polite and puritan way of saying 'sex rites'.) There was no mention of blood letting – this was entirely my contribution to the story. As was the eternal life angle. And as far as I know, they never killed anyone either.
The dates and cycles used are real celebrations. I did find some discrepancies on when exactly the winter solstice is though. Some books say the 21st of December, some say the 22nd. Apart from that, all others (as far as I know) are correct.
I tried to stay as true to the characters of Doggett and Reyes as I could, but my drippy heart just couldn't rest without giving them some sort of promise for a happily ever after. :) So I apologise to anyone who found the ending cheesy. But it's still standing. :) I also apologise to anyone who lives in Logan, Ohio or any other place mentioned. I'm clueless about American towns and just picked these places off a map. (I was too lazy to do any kind of in depth research.) I didn't mean to offend anyone, so if I've misrepresented your town or state then I am truly sorry.
I hope you all enjoyed reading my first case file fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. It was a departure from my usual fluff, so any constructive criticism would be welcomed. :)
Basement office
They hadn't talked about Logan or what occurred in the cellar since it happened. Every time Monica tried to broach the subject, John changed it. The fact that all six of the cultists had been indicted for abduction and assault hadn't improved his mood any. That they all appeared to have aged ten years in five days wasn't even mentioned. In fact, he'd been brusque and disagreeable before he'd even found out about that. Her intuition told her that something else was bothering him, but he refused to open up and tell her.
"Are you angry at me, John?" she asked, wanting the tension between them gone.
"You figured it Monica. Congratulations." Truth was, he felt as guilty as hell as to what had almost happened in the hospital, and he'd always believed that attack was the best part of defence.
"Why? Have I done something to upset you?"
"I told you to stay here. But did you listen? Do you ever listen?"
"Contrary to what you like to think John, this is a partnership. Which means that you don't decide which cases I investigate." She retorted, becoming angry herself.
"Well maybe I should, since you obviously don't have the good sense you were born with."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
He took a breath, and realised that these feelings were not born out of guilt or shame, but were very real. "You put yourself in a position where you became a target for those freaks. You put me in a position where –"
"This is my fault now?" she practically screeched at him.
He ignored her outburst and continued. "You put me in a position where I couldn't protect you, and I hated you for it. I hated you for makin' me feel like I failed you, I hated you for makin' me picture you cold and dead, and I hated you for tearin' my heart out. After Luke . . . I never wanted to feel like that again, but you made me experience it all."
Monica's anger fled, as she immediately understood where all the hostility was coming from. She'd scared him. More than that, she'd hurt him. And now he was angry with her for making him so vulnerable.
"It wasn't done on purpose, John." Monica tried to soothe, but he was so enraged that he brushed her response aside.
"But it was done none the less. Don't you understand that you could have been killed? You came so close to dyin'. . . "
"But I didn't. You found me."
"I almost lost you." He whispered.
Monica rose from her chair and repositioned herself on the desk, facing him. "But you didn't. I'm here now, and I'm good."
"An' next time? Next time you might not be so lucky."
"I can't live my life worrying about next time John. I'd miss out on right now. I just have to trust in myself and trust in my partner."
"It's not good enough."
"It's as good as it's gonna get, I'm afraid. Life doesn't come with any guarantees. You make the best of it you can, and if you're lucky you'll live long and prosper. If you're extremely lucky you'll live those years surrounded by the people you love. You can't be worrying about when it's all going to be taken away from you, because one day you'll wake up and find that you've spent your whole life scared of something that didn't happen. And you'll look around for someone to share that revelation with, and find that you're all alone."
There was silence as John thought through this proclamation. He thought about what had happened in the hospital, what he'd almost let happen, and what he wanted to happen in the future. He accepted that the feelings he had for Monica had developed into something more than friendship, and that his angry outburst stemmed not from the guilt of what he'd done, but from the place in his heart that wanted to keep her well and safe. And he thought about what his life would be like if she wasn't in it.
"God help me, Monica, I don't want to live like that." He said finally.
"Then don't." she encouraged.
He studied her for a moment, and then reached out to lace his hand with hers.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you."
She squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry you had to go through that again."
They smiled at each other, drawing comfort from the simple act of holding hands. John took a series of deep breaths, and met her eyes with trepidation.
"Mon? You maybe...you wanna have dinner sometime?"
Her smile widened in response, and he thought he saw a promise of things to come reflected in her eyes.
"I'd like that John. Very much."
End.
Authors Notes: First of all, I have to thank Lisa for the title. And Rae for being a wonderful beta. Without her I never would have written part 15 - I would have just left it out. So everyone send happy thoughts to my great friend Rae. And I really have to thank Leese again for nagging me (motivating me – same thing) for the next part. 'Where's the next part?' 'Have you written any more yet?' 'Can you send me the next bit?' You get the picture. Seriously, you're a legend, mate. :)
There really was a god called Priapus, and he really was enormously endowed. Standard nature for a fertility god. I only found mention of Ayana in one book, and then it was only one line describing the fact that she had three breasts. The cult of Priapus and Ayana were actually said to be able to halt the aging process by their magical practices. (A polite and puritan way of saying 'sex rites'.) There was no mention of blood letting – this was entirely my contribution to the story. As was the eternal life angle. And as far as I know, they never killed anyone either.
The dates and cycles used are real celebrations. I did find some discrepancies on when exactly the winter solstice is though. Some books say the 21st of December, some say the 22nd. Apart from that, all others (as far as I know) are correct.
I tried to stay as true to the characters of Doggett and Reyes as I could, but my drippy heart just couldn't rest without giving them some sort of promise for a happily ever after. :) So I apologise to anyone who found the ending cheesy. But it's still standing. :) I also apologise to anyone who lives in Logan, Ohio or any other place mentioned. I'm clueless about American towns and just picked these places off a map. (I was too lazy to do any kind of in depth research.) I didn't mean to offend anyone, so if I've misrepresented your town or state then I am truly sorry.
I hope you all enjoyed reading my first case file fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. It was a departure from my usual fluff, so any constructive criticism would be welcomed. :)