A/N: This scene would go between chapters 38 and 39 of Apologize, Johanna's first night home after Bracken's arrest.

Chapter 10- Monsters in the Dark

Johanna was trapped…trapped in one of those terrifying dreams, knowing it was a dream and yet not able to break free of it. At least the conscious part of her mind hoped it was just a dream as her nemesis drew closer, a gun in his hand, his finger on the trigger, her back against the wall in that empty hotel kitchen. Menacing words spilled from his lips; words that sentenced her and her daughter to the fate he had planned for them. She couldn't make out all the words…there was something loud in the background, muffling the voice. It sounded like a shower turned on full blast and she couldn't reconcile the noise or the words or the gun pointed at her…and how suddenly her daughter was there beside her and there were more guns pointed at both of them. She tried desperately to push her daughter out of the way only to be met by her resistance…and then there was a flash of light and loud bang and she screamed over and over, suddenly unable to see as the dream was plunged into darkness.

"Jo," Jim murmured; grasping her flailing arms and shaking her.

"No!" his wife screamed, still caught in the grips of her nightmare. "No; no, please, no! I want to go home! Please!"

"Johanna," he said, a little louder, shaking her a little harder. She was deep in the depths of her dream, shaking wasn't working he saw and so he tightened his hold on her arms and jerked her upright, causing her to gasp and her eyes fly open. "Shhh," he murmured, seeing the last vestige of a scream on her lips as he tugged her against his chest. "It's alright, sweetheart. You're home. You're safe."

"Hhhh…home," she stuttered, the fog of sleep and terror slowly giving way to consciousness.

"Yes," he whispered, his hand moving against her back slowly. "You're home; no one is going to hurt you. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

The tension in her body eased and she melted against him, sobbing as she tried to reconcile dream and reality.

Jim rocked her back and forth gently. "It's alright, sweetheart. It's alright, I've got you. You're home and everything is going to be alright. No one is going to hurt you again, I promise."

His words were soothing her and calming her; but then there was a bright flash of lightning and a loud crack of thunder which startled her and made her flinch violently in his embrace, her nails digging into his back as she held onto him for dear life.

"It's just a storm," her husband murmured. "A loud one, but a storm none the less. I won't let it hurt you."

"I'm sorry," she whispered through her tears.

"For what?" he asked.

She shivered in his embrace; her nerves making her feel cold. "It's the second time I've woke you."

Jim pulled back from her a little to see her face and he gave her a smile. "That's alright, honey; I don't mind. I'm just glad you're home."

"Home," she murmured again as she burrowed back into his embrace.

"That's right," he said softly as he held her tightly. "You're home. It's alright; you were just having a bad dream and it's no wonder after everything you've been through the last few days…not to mention the last thirteen years."

"I thought I'd sleep good tonight," Johanna said quietly, her tears still seeping through his thin shirt.

"I did too but I understand why you're not. You took a nap when you came home, which you needed…and you probably didn't dream much, you were so exhausted; or if you did, it wasn't enough to bother or wake you. Now you've been up this evening, thinking about things and going over it all again in your mind…you've got a lot rolling around in there and it's decided to come out in the form of nightmares. Tomorrow night will probably be better for you," Jim assured.

"I hope so…for both of us."

"Don't worry about me," he stated, his voice warm and soothing. "I'm fine."

"I feel badly though; I hate to wake you like that," she sniffled.

"It's fine, sweetheart. I've chased your dreams away before, it's nothing new…and it's a job I don't mind doing."

"I'm glad," she said softly, shivering once more as she pressed her cheek firmly against him, breathing in his scent.

"You're cold," Jim murmured, reluctantly pulling away from her. "Let me get you another blanket."

Johanna trembled as he slipped away from her, her eyes following him as he crossed the room, stopping at the dresser long enough to click on the dainty looking hurricane lamp made of thin lavender glass that she had bought during their road trip over thirty years before. The dim light chased away the shadows of the room, allowing her to drink in the sight again as he finished the trek to the closet and took down a familiar blue blanket. She noted that he left the light on as he made his way back to her, a small comforting smile on his lips as he spread the blanket over her. "Do you want a cold drink, sweetheart?" he asked. "Your voice is a little scratchy from crying, I'm sure your throat is dry."

"Yes, please," she murmured.

He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "I'll be right back."

"Jim," she called after him.

"Yeah?"

"My head hurts a little; do we have anything I can take."

He gave a nod. "Yeah, I'll get you an Advil."

"Thank you," she murmured in appreciation as he opened their bedroom door and moved into the hallway. It wasn't a lie, she did have a dull headache, but she knew that Advil always made her sleep and perhaps she'd be able to sleep better with the medicine in her system.

It was going to be a long night, Jim thought to himself as he made his way downstairs and entered the kitchen. He turned the light on, blinking against the brightness for a moment before he crossed the room to get a glass out of the cupboard. The clock on the microwave said 3:11 and he grimaced slightly. Johanna's first nightmare had arrived shortly after midnight, complete with thrashing limbs and strangled cries. Waking her had been easy that time; she hadn't been caught too deeply in the web of the nightmare, allowing for an easy rescue. She had cried as he held her close he recalled as he moved to the refrigerator to fill the glass with ice and water. She had cried and declined to share the details of the dream, saying only that she was sorry she had woke him. He hadn't pressed her for more information, figuring it best to allow it to pass quickly on its own. She had gone back to sleep relatively easily and quickly…and maybe that hadn't been the good thing he had thought it was at the time.

Jim sighed and raked his hand through his hair; only a little over two hours between nightmares, it didn't bode well for the rest of the night. He didn't mind the lack of sleep; he could catch up on that later…but he hated to see her face such torment in her dreams. He was going to have to push for details this time he thought to himself; the nightmare had obviously been worse; the cries had turned into screams that had jerked him upright, his heart pounding with fear that someone had managed to get past him and was trying to harm her. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the coldness of the glass against his palm; his heart hadn't quit hammering against his ribs until he had jerked her upright and into his arms.

With his fear still in mind, he went to the backdoor and checked the locks again, and he knew he had already checked them at least fifty times during the evening but he couldn't help himself. His wife was home, she had to be protected…he couldn't allow any possibility that she could be harmed or taken from him. He had to keep her safe, from monsters that lurked in reality, and the ones invading her dreams.

Jim moved through the kitchen and clicked the light off; drifting through the house in darkness with the exception of the lightning that pierced outside the windows. He paused at the stairs, knowing he wouldn't rest if he didn't double check the front door again. He didn't resist the urge and headed toward it, completing the routine all over again before he pulled the thin curtain back on the window of the door and peered out. A flash of lightning allowed him to see that the porch was void of any threats; the neighborhood was still and dark as he had expected. With the task completed, he returned to the stairs, remembering that he needed to grab his wife a pain reliever.

He didn't doubt that she had a dull headache; little food, little sleep and massive stress were the perfect combination for a headache…he'd had one of his own earlier in the evening; but he had a feeling that she mainly wanted the medicine because it made her sleepy and she'd assumed that it would make her sleep better. It was an old tactic of hers, he mused as he reached the bathroom and clicked the light on. She didn't believe in taking sleeping pills; but she firmly believed in the side effect of drowsiness from an over the counter pain reliever. Oh well, he thought as he sat the glass on the sink, truth be told, he'd rather her take the Advil than a sleeping pill.

Before he could open the medicine cabinet, something caught his eye in the trashcan. He moved toward it and plucked out the balled up black material, unrolling Johanna's black blazer first and then the white silk blouse and the matching black skirt. Another old tactic, he observed, his fingers rubbing against the thin silk of her blouse. He sighed deeply; it had been a hell of a day…or should he say week…or years? In any case, it had been one for the books. He brought the blouse to his nose, breathing in the trace of her perfume that remained on it. He hadn't had to sniff the old bottle of her perfume for a few months now…now he could smell it on her skin and clothes like he always had before. Life had been colorless and dull without her…the months she had spent at Katie's had been a life limited by circumstances…but now she was home…and life could start again for them.

Carefully he balled up the clothes the way she had them and shoved them back into the trashcan. He'd buy her a new silk blouse and skirt to take their place but right now she was waiting for him and he needed to get back to her. Jim opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the bottle of pain relievers, shaking out two tablets into his palm and then putting the bottle away, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he closed the door. He looked like hell, he thought to himself; and he knew for a fact that his wife was pale and that there were dark smudges beneath her eyes denoting the lack of sleep she had gotten all week. They were quite a pair in more ways than one. The night she had stayed there with him for their anniversary, it had been his nightmare that had woke her…tonight it was her nightmares waking him. He hoped to God that the next night they spent in their bed would be peaceful for both of them.

Thinking about the tearstains on her face, he grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the cool water for a few moments and then rung it out before grabbing the glass and the pills he had laid aside. Tomorrow night would be better, he thought before clicking off the light. Tomorrow he'd make sure she was well fed and her mind settled, that she got plenty of rest and that she knew she could discuss any lingering fears with him. She would have plenty of traumas to work through, he knew that, and he was determined to get her through all of them…no matter how many nights he had to spend chasing away the demons in her dreams.

Johanna shivered as the storm continued to rage outside, thunder cracking loudly, making her flinch in response, her eyes squeezing shut as lightning flashed against the slats of the blinds. Usually she enjoyed a good storm…but tonight she felt like she had already weathered enough of them for the week; her nerves stretched taunt and her body and mind weary from the exhaustion and stress…not to mention the nightmares that seemed determined to plague her tonight.

She turned her back to the window, trying to block out the storm as she pulled the covers around her tightly, waiting for her husband to return. Why wasn't she sleeping easy tonight? She should be; she was finally back in her own home, in her own bed, her husband next to her. Katie was safely tucked away with Rick at his home. The monster who had destroyed their lives was spending his first night in jail. She should be sleeping soundly…and yet the monster was there, in her dreams, the terror continuing. She squeezed her eyes shut again, a tear slipping from beneath her lashes. Would his face ever go away? Would the fear ever go away? She felt the relief; she felt like her muscles had unclenched and released some of the knots they'd held for years…but there was still a measure of fear lingering, keeping the turmoil swirling deep within her.

Would she ever get to relax? Would she ever know what it was like to sleep and wake without worry again? Did she even remember what such a thing felt like? She curled into a ball; why couldn't she just make it go away? She was home…this was what she wanted, to be home, in her own bed with her husband and yet she had woke up screaming, gripped with the terror that she'd never get back home. Johanna forced herself to take deep breaths and release them slowly, trying to settle the panic that the remembrance brought back to her. She was home…it was hard for her mind to reconcile the fact after so long but she was there, she thought, forcing her eyes to open and scan the dimly lit room. This was her home; their bedroom…that was the cream colored carpet she had chosen on the floor; that was her vanity that she'd had since she was a teenager. Those were the lamps she had picked out on the nightstands she had bought to match the dressers. That was her jewelry box on the dresser beside her old hurricane lamp. Those were her white lace curtains on the windows. The comforter that held swirls of blue and lavender and black was the one she had chosen many years before…this was the bed they had bought when their old one had, as Jim put it, died in a blaze of glory. The remembrance brought a small wobbly smile to her lips as her fingers clutched the covers. That was her husband's scent on the sheets and his pillow; his watch on the nightstand just as her necklace laid on hers. It was home; her home…and in the morning she'd go into her bathroom and sink into the old clawfoot bathtub and soak in the hot water like she always had when she had a bad day or week. She'd wash it all away…and then she'd soak up the time with her husband…she could wander through the house and touch every surface remembering that it was hers…that she never had to leave again.

Her eyes closed at the thought but a flash of her nightmare splashed across her mind, evil eyes boring into her as he came closer, holding a gun, making threats…she whimpered as she clutched the covers. Would she ever not see that face when she closed her eyes? Would her brain ever let her push it away so that she could sleep without trouble?

There wasn't time to ponder the workings of her brain as she heard Jim's footsteps in the hallway. Her eyes snapped open, anticipating the sight of him and she was soon rewarded as he appeared in the doorway, carrying a glass of ice water and a wash cloth in one hand, his other hand curled around what she assumed was the medicine she had asked for.

"Here, sweetheart," he said quietly as he perched on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to sit up.

Johanna pushed herself upright and accepted the glass he handed her, gulping down half of the cold water greedily in hopes of soothing the tightness of her throat.

"Save some to swallow your pills with," her husband coaxed, his fingers wrapping around the glass and urging it away from her mouth.

She swallowed, her hand lowering the glass as her fingers reached for the pain relievers laying in his palm. She popped them into her mouth without a word and swallowed them with another long sip of water. "Thank you," she murmured as she handed him the glass to sit on the stand, a small amount of water remaining for now until the ice melted.

"You're welcome," he replied as he lifted the damp washcloth and gently wiped the tearstains from her face with it. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, despite the occasional tremble of her body. "I'm fine."

"Do you want me to leave the light on?" Jim asked quietly, his fingertips skimming the line of her chin, his gaze on hers so she knew he wouldn't find it a sign of weakness if she was somewhat fearful of the shadows tonight. The lamp on the dresser was dim and wouldn't keep him from sleeping, not that he cared much if it did; her comfort tonight was more important.

"No…I'm fine."

"You're pale," he remarked.

"You said that earlier," she replied softly.

"It's still true," he said, his brow furrowing with concern as he folded the washcloth and laid it on the nightstand.

"I'm sure I'll be better tomorrow."

Jim gave her a small smile. "I'm sure you will be. I'll make you a good breakfast in the morning, that should help. Dinner probably wasn't enough."

"I'm supposed to make breakfast for you."

"Not tomorrow," he told, his hand caressing her face before his fingers threaded through her tousled hair. "You've been through a lot; especially the last few days. I want you to take it easy tomorrow…sleep late, move around the house a little so your mind gets used to the idea that you're home to stay; just have some quiet time, some peace; you've earned it."

She smiled in response as she nodded, pressing her cheek against his palm as his hand skimmed her face once more. "That sounds good…I'm just sorry that I haven't made tonight very peaceful."

"Don't you worry about that," he told her, his tone low and warm.

Her fingers curled around his wrist gently. "Come back to bed," she whispered. "Hold me."

His lips captured hers in a soft kiss before he rose from where he sat on the edge of the bed. Jim moved across the room, clicking off the dim lamp and then returned to his side of the bed as thunder rumbled and lightly flashed. He saw her shiver; usually storms didn't bother her, but he knew that tonight was different in so many ways. He picked up the remote from the nightstand as he got in bed. "I'll turn the TV on for you," he told her as he clicked the television back on. "I should've left it on like you usually do…it probably would've helped you."

"It's alright," she murmured. "I was probably asleep before you were, I didn't notice."

Jim found a sitcom he knew she liked and turned the volume down to where she'd be able to make out the dialogue without the noise being too loud to keep them awake. He then laid the remote back on the stand and settled in, opening his arms for her, beckoning her close so he could hold her as she had asked.

Johanna settled against him, another feeling of relief shooting through her body as she soaked up his warmth.

"Tell me about your dream," he said quietly.

The tension returned to her body just as quickly as it had left, her hand curling into his shirt. "I don't want to talk about it."

His hand rubbed her back. "Maybe it'll go away if we sort it out logically for you."

"I don't know…" she whispered.

"Where were you in the dream?" he asked, keeping his voice quiet so she wouldn't feel like it was a demand.

"In that empty hotel kitchen," Johanna murmured.

"Where you saw him today…or rather I should say yesterday by this point?"

"Yes."

"Was he there in the dream?"

"Of course…before I knew who it was, he was always shadowed; I couldn't ever see him despite the things done to me. But now I see him…and I don't want to see him," she cried softly.

"He can't hurt you now," Jim assured. "What happened in the dream; was it the way it happened in reality?"

"Started that way," she said, shivering against his side.

"What happened?"

"He pulled a gun."

Jim nodded. "Well, from what I know about what happened, you had the gun…but knew he had one hid that he kept itching to reach for. So naturally your brain turned it inside out and made him pull the gun in your dream. Did you have your gun in the dream?"

"I don't know…I was scared, I didn't see it."

"Alright; that's just the fear that you kept shoved away while you were facing him. You knew you had to be strong and brave to take him down, you didn't have time for fear…it's caught up with you in your dreams."

"He kept coming toward me," Johanna whispered, her voice full of tears.

"Did he come toward you in reality?"

"Only until I raised the gun and told him to stop."

"You had control of the situation, he knew he couldn't make a sudden move with a gun pointed at him," Jim remarked. "In your dream, where the fear caught up with you, he had the control, like he's had for years, like your mind is used to. Your subconscious hasn't caught up with the fact that the tables have turned. What happened as he came toward you in the dream?"

"He had the gun pointed at me…said he'd kill me," she cried. "He said this time it would be for real and I wouldn't make a comeback. He said he should've done it himself in the first place."

Jim held her tightly. "You told me when he was being taken away today, he looked at you and said that he should've killed you himself."

"He did say that."

"That's why he came toward you in the dream, sweetheart; your brain keeps remembering that parting shot of his…you keep remembering it and thinking about it. You feel like you were like him because you held a gun on him and thought about pulling the trigger…and I don't blame you a bit for thinking about it because I'd like to do it myself; but that's why the tables turned in your dream, he said he should've done it himself and so your dream was letting him because your feelings are mixed up. You did nothing wrong; all you did was end it and you ended it without spilling a drop of blood. You did it the right way; he's the one who did things the wrong way."

"I know," she said softly, her arm wrapping around him, her fingers curling into his waist.

"What else happened in your dream?"

"He kept coming toward me, making threats, the gun aimed at me…suddenly Katie was there too and he was telling me he'd kill her too," Johanna murmured; her grip on him tightening.

"Alright; Katie was suddenly there in your dream because she appeared suddenly in reality. You didn't expect her to find you but she did, she found you and she came in…so naturally she'd appear the dream. You know that it was Bracken's orders that caused Katie to be hurt. Your brain had already twisted things into him coming at you himself, so of course it was going to have him go toward her too. What happened next?"

"He kept saying things but I couldn't hear them all, there was too much noise, like a waterfall or a shower on full blast."

"The rain," Jim stated. "The storm was breaking through your dream. I heard the rain too, it was coming down pretty hard, sweetheart; it did sound like shower turned on full blast."

"There were more guns behind him," she went on without his coaxing this time. "I couldn't see who had them but there were more guns pointed at us."

"Okay; what really happened was that Ryan and Esposito came in; they, along with Katie wanted you to put your gun down but you didn't want to because you suspected Bracken had one and you were afraid he'd hurt Katie. You told Esposito; Katie would've already had her gun on him, Ryan too, Esposito found the gun Bracken had. Your dream turned it into more guns against you…most likely because in reality, they were all behind Bracken when they came in the room, you were facing them, their guns were on him, not you; but your mind twisted it in your dream."

"That makes sense," she said softly, allowing his quiet logical words to soothe her.

"Of course," he murmured; his thumb rubbing gentle circles against her arm. "What came next in the dream?"

"I was afraid, I knew they were going to shoot…I was trying to push Katie out of the way."

Her husband gave a nod. "That's not surprising…you went after Bracken to save Katie, to keep her safe. You left with the F.B.I. to keep me and Katie safe. Your brain knows your instinct is always to protect Katie so you're trying to save her in your dream because that's what you'd do no matter what."

"She kept trying to resist my push."

"That's because you know how Katie is, she'd want to save you…she wouldn't accept anything less than both of you walking away; that's all that was. You always protect her; and your heart and mind knows that Katie would do everything in her power to save you."

"That's true."

"What happened next?"

"There was a flash of light," Johanna answered.

"That was most likely the lightning," her husband replied. "Some part of you was waking because of the storm, you sensed the flash of light from the windows."

"There was a loud bang and then I was just screaming."

"The thunder," Jim remarked. "There was a loud crack of thunder before you started screaming. You heard the thunder, sweetheart; not guns. Was that the end of the dream?"

"Yes…all of that was more than enough."

"Your mind just had the real events jumbled up with your feelings and your fears," he soothed. "I don't think it'll bother you anymore. Everything in the dream had a logical explanation, didn't it?"

"Yes."

"It won't come back," Jim said with conviction.

"I just wanted to come home," she sniffled; remembering the last vestiges of the dream. "I just wanted to come home, I wanted you."

"I know," he replied, his tone quiet as he shifted to hold her more snugly. "You are home…and you have me; I'm right here next to you and I'm not going anywhere. You're home with me and you're safe; no one is going to hurt you and no one is taking you out of here; and that dream isn't coming back because we done tainted it with logic and you know nightmares hate that, don't you?"

She nodded against him but said nothing, still somewhat fearful of shutting her eyes and seeing it all over again…or something worse. "How could anyone ever think he was good?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "I looked in his eyes today and all I could see was evil…pure evil. I don't think I have ever seen that much evilness in one person's eyes before…it scared me…it scared me so badly."

"And yet you didn't flinch," Jim said softly. "You looked that evilness in the face and you won, Johanna. You won; he didn't defeat you, he didn't win."

"I'll still worry for a long time…I'll worry he'll come back."

"He's not coming back," he replied with conviction. "There's no way in hell."

"I just don't understand," she murmured. "How no one saw that evilness in him before…or why the ones who did just allowed it to grow and stayed silent…letting lives be destroyed just so he could make himself into some kind of golden idol."

"Some people are able to hide their evilness…they have two faces and the world at large, the one he wants something from gets the face that lies; the one they think will keep them safe. A wolf in sheep's clothing so to speak. As for the people who knew what he was doing and did nothing to stop him so they could save their own asses…they've paid, at least some of them, because those dirty cops who knew too much, they're gone. Anyone left in his organization that knows and was party to all his dirty deeds, they're shaking in their boots, because they know it's all going to fall down on them. They all lost…you won, sweetheart. That quote you always liked so much, "vincit omnia veritas", you proved it true…truth conquers all. That's why you won and he lost…that's why you're home and he's in a cell where he belongs."

"I don't want him to haunt my dreams…I don't want to see his face…I don't want to see the evilness in his eyes every time I close my eyes. I needed to know who it was so I could come home…I needed to know…and now I know and I just want his face to go away."

"It'll go away," he promised. "All you have to do is let it fly away."

"I don't know how," she murmured tearfully.

"Just think happy thoughts," he told her quietly. "Just watch that old show you like so much that I found on TV and think some happy thoughts and you'll be alright, sweetheart."

"I'm trying," she whispered.

"I know," he replied; but he could still feel the nervous tension in her body. He needed to find some other way to comfort…years ago when nightmares haunted her and she wanted to forget, he'd make love to her, wiping away whatever frightened her with thoughts of passion and love; but she wasn't up for that tonight. It was the last thing she needed at the moment…but his touch had always seemed to soothe her, no matter the manner in which it was bestowed.

With that thought in mind, he slipped his hand beneath the hem of the shirt he had given her to sleep in, drawing it up a little, keeping his touch gentle and soft as his fingers grazed the skin of her back so she wouldn't think he wanted something more than to offer comfort at the moment. His wife breathed deeply, melting against his side as she kept her tired gaze on the TV screen. He stayed quiet too, his hand moving slowly against her back and trailing over the curve of her hip before gliding back upwards. He felt like she didn't require more words at the moment…and so he didn't bother to mention that he had found the skirt, blouse and jacket he had stripped off of her that afternoon shoved into the trashcan in the bathroom.

Really, he didn't need to ask about it; it didn't come as a surprise. His wife had a habit of throwing clothes away that she felt carried a stigma. He could remember a plum colored dress and jacket that she had been crazy about; anticipating the moment it would go on sale so that she could add it to her work wardrobe. It finally hit the sale status in October of 93…and the day she cut the tags off and put it on turned into the day that her mother died. He had been out of town for work and it had taken him half the night to get home to her; and sometime in the early morning hours after she had finally cried herself into exhaustion, he had gone downstairs to get a drink and he had found that plum colored dress crumpled in the trash can along with the matching jacket. It hadn't been a surprise then either; a few years before, the green sweater she had been wearing when her father died had found its way into the garbage, as had the dress she wore to his funeral…the blue skirt and white blouse she had worn to the reading of his will. The black dress pants and peach colored silk blouse she wore the day she found out she was on the list to be cut from the law firm due to downsizing had been tossed away too.

Jim could trace the behavior all the way back to the summer of 1975 when her grandfather had died. They hadn't started dating yet but he had picked her up at a diner near her parents house after the funeral and she had asked to stay with him. He had allowed her to of course; had even taken it upon himself to go get her different clothes to wear while she was asleep the next morning. He had taken her home the next afternoon and when he returned to his apartment, he found her black funeral dress and pantyhose balled up in the trashcan in his bathroom. He had never said a word about it to her…nor had he mentioned the other outfits that were deemed too offensive to remain over the years. Even the white floral dress she had worn to the precinct the day she came to tell them she was alive had been spotted in the trashcan in her hotel room when he had gone to see her.

He never questioned it; it just seemed to be her way...like a chapter couldn't close unless the clothes were shed and thrown away. Some sort of rite of passage, he mused; as if the clothes had to go because she was no longer the same woman who had put them on…like that plum colored dress; she had gotten dressed that morning knowing her mother was alive; she was still Naomi's cherished daughter, secure in that love and the knowledge that she'd see her in the afternoon…and she had, but not in the way she had planned. The dress had to go because it was the last thing her mother saw her in; it marked the end of Naomi's life…the end of Johanna's life as a daughter in the normal sense of the word. She felt orphaned…she wasn't the same; the dress a symbol, it had to go.

The white floral dress she had worn for her return to New York marked the end of her days of hiding…but it had also brought with it new turmoil as her homecoming hadn't gone quite as expected. The dress had to go. Today she had faced the villain that had plagued her…plagued them all for thirteen years. Today she ended it…but she'd never be able to look at those clothes without thinking of that moment, of seeing his face, hearing his parting words. The clothes had to go. It was a ritual that he couldn't say he understood entirely…but he respected it and allowed her to do it without comment or judgment. The only thing that puzzled him was that she never threw away the shoes.

Jim brushed a light kiss against Johanna's hair, feeling her body relax as sleep began to reclaim her, but then a crack of thunder sounded, making her flinch and raise her head. "It's just the storm," he murmured quietly, his hand still moving against her skin. "Go back to sleep."

"I'm not sure I can," she said sleepily.

"You can," he replied, keeping his tone low and quiet. "Do you remember when I took you to the cabin for vacation the first summer we were together?"

"Yes."

"And our vacation got crashed thanks to my mother's plotting," he added.

Johanna nodded against his chest. "I remember."

"Then you remember that night we snuck out of the house at midnight and I took you to that little hidden spot in the woods where we could swim."

"Mhmm…I always think of it as our secret spot."

"That's right, sweetheart; it's out secret spot…and that night we had fun, we had a picnic and we swam…and it stormed, remember?"

"I'll never forget," she murmured.

"Good…you just think about that; you just remember us in the car…the storm outside and how the radio was full of static and we didn't care…because we were wrapped up in each other."

"Those are always the best moments," Johanna said softly; "When we're just wrapped up in each other."

"I agree," he replied, scrapping his fingers over the lacy scrap of material at her hip as he skimmed his hand over her skin. "We have plenty of those moments for you to think about…like our first Thanksgiving…not the bad one, but the redo."

She smiled, her hand moving against his chest. "That's a good one…and our engagement."

"And our honeymoon," he said with a suggestive lilt.

She gave a soft laugh. "You had to go there, didn't you?"

"Of course; you'd think less of me if I didn't. But if you want tamer moments, there's our first night home with Katie…when everyone left and we realized we were terrified of her…so we brought her in here and put her in the cradle and stared at it half the night in case we missed the slightest movement or huff of distress."

"I think she knew we were afraid of her," Johanna replied quietly but he noted that her tone was light.

"Yeah; I think so too…she thought she won; but eventually we got over the fear and we schooled her. You see, a win then, a win now."

"Except our daughter isn't evil."

"She has her moments," Jim quipped.

"Jim," she laughed, tapping his chest lightly in admonishment.

"You know it's true," he went on; "She does have her evil moments…like when she's interrupting the moments I'm trying to create with you."

She thought for a moment. "Okay; I'll give you that one…but we never tell her."

"Deal," he replied.

Johanna shifted a little, tipping her face upwards to see him, a small smile touching her lips, a sparkle of amusement in her eyes that he could make out in the light from the TV. "Do you remember the time we broke the bed?" she asked.

A wide grin spread across his face. "You better believe it; that's one of my all time favorites."

She giggled against his side and he reveled in the sound. "It was a moment that can never be forgotten, isn't it?" she asked.

"I'd say so," he replied. "All those years you thought we'd never top falling out of the bed and then we broke it. I'll never forget you saying 'I think we killed it'."

"Well we did," she laughed.

"Yeah," he chuckled. "But what a way to go…it died in a blaze of glory."

She laughed softly, her hand cupping his cheek and her eyes locked on his for a long moment as she drank in the fact that it was all real. She caught his lips in a soft kiss, allowing it to linger until she had no choice but to break away.

"Jim," she whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart," he told her as she settled back against his chest. "You sleep now, you've got plenty of happy thoughts to think of…I'll keep the monsters away."

"You always do," Johanna said softly; grateful for the feel of his hand moving against her back and the warmth of his body against hers…thankful for his love and the fact that she had survived to make it back home to him. The nightmare was over…and she allowed her mind to wonder back in time like he had suggested, because she was home now…she was safe; Jim would keep her safe…he'd slay any dragons who dared to disturb her. With that thought in mind, she allowed the memories to sweep in, sinking into dreams of the past as sleep reclaimed her.