A/N: Thank you SWWoman for your patience and continued support. It is greatly appreciated. I apologize, again, for the delayed posting. I was in the hospital for several days, but I'm home now, but still in recovery at home. Due to my health, i may have to take a break for a while, but I'm not defeated. I want to thank everyone who has read my stories, left reviews, and for your continued support. I can never be thankful enough for the opportunity to write for you guys about Joss and John, and what could have been, and what they will always be in my heart. Well, enough about me, lets get to our favorite couple. Enjoy...

A More Convenient Life

This was a bad idea, John thought as he paced around his small apartment waiting for Joss to arrive. Not only could he be putting his life in jeopardy, but he could also be putting hers in jeopardy as well. She had insisted on coming over after he had called her with his desperate plea that he needed her. When had awakened from that powerful dream he'd had an uncontrollable desire to speak to her, and when she had suggested coming to his place, he hadn't had the will to tell her no. He wanted…no, he needed to see her. He felt she was the only one who could help him make sense of what was happening to him.

The nightmares that still came to John at night had always been about the things he had done while in the Special Forces, and then the CIA. They were horrible, vivid dreams that would always wake him, and he would find himself drenched in a cold sweat and shivering. But he had always understood those dreams, knew where they came from, and why. But he didn't understand this dream about the little boy, didn't know where it came from or why he was having it now. His father's death had been so long ago, and he hadn't thought about it in years. Why would it break him down now? He ran a hand through his unkempt hair then rubbed the back of his neck wearily.

A soft knock sounded on John's door, and his head snapped as his pacing came to a dead stop. He paused for only a moment before his long strides carried him to the door.

When John had called Joss, waking her after she was finally able to sleep after she had been tossing and turning with thoughts about him, she was alarmed at the urgency in his raspy voice. She was instantly awake, asking him what was wrong, but he wouldn't say anything further. She figured he was regretting his spontaneous call already. When she had succeeded in convincing him to let her come over, she had gotten Taylor up, explained that she had a work emergency, and he had to go to his grandma's for a couple days. She had already decided she would call off work if she had to because she didn't really know what was going on with John, or how long he would need her. She knew it had to be major for him to call her in the middle of the night.

That thought was on her mind as Joss drove to John's apartment after giving her mother the same explanation when she dropped Taylor off. Her mother didn't question it because, although rare, this did occasionally happen.

The fact that John would call her and say he needed her in such a distraught way had her mind, and her heart, racing. Joss didn't let this distract her, though, from being diligent about watching her back. She knew it was possible Snow was following her, so she made sure to drive in circles, and make sharp turns, even running a couple of red lights to shake anyone who might be following her.

As Joss turned into the underground garage across the street from John's apartment, as he had instructed her to, she glanced in her rear-view mirror to see if she saw any headlights on the empty street. It was early morning, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was deserted. She parked in an available space, locked up her car, then made her way across the street to John's building. After she had walked up two flights of stairs, Joss finally stood in front of his door. She knocked softly, and after a few anxious moments, she heard the soft steps of bare feet walk towards the door.

With a deep calming breath that did nothing to calm him, John opened the door. As soon as his eyes met hers, he felt like he could breathe again. He released a heavy breath, and without thinking, pulled Joss into his arms, burying his face in her soft, fragrant hair. He inhaled her subtle flowery scent deeply, and felt a peace so overwhelming wash over him it made him tremble. He felt her arms wrap around his waist, pulling him tightly against her body.

They could have stood there minutes or hours, neither one knew, but eventually Joss leaned her head back to look into John's tortured eyes, and smiled softly.

"Why don't we close the door, and go sit on the couch so we can talk, hmm?"

John just nodded his head in agreement, and with one hand, reached behind her to close the door. Reluctantly he released her, but took her hand, threading their fingers together, and led her to the couch in his small living area.

They sat close to one another, and for a long time, neither one spoke. Joss wanted to wait, and give John time to collect himself, and then tell her in his own time why he had called her. While she sat beside him she took in his rumpled hair, his gorgeous features, and his strong body. He was wearing a dark blue T-shirt and a pair of dark gray sleep pants. The dark blue shirt brought out the stormy blue of his eyes, and accentuated his muscular arms and broad chest. He had yet to release her hand, and she was in no hurry for him to.

After a few minutes passed, John took another deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I don't know where to start," he said quietly.

Joss squeezed his hand in reassurance. "Why don't you start with what prompted you to call me?" Her voice was soft, and she tilted her head to look into his face, her hair cascading over her shoulder. He turned toward her to gaze into her warm, brown eyes and her breath caught at the pain and vulnerability radiating from his expressive eyes. She reached up to caress his cheek tenderly.

"John…tell me," she urged gently.

It was as if her soft spoken words had broken a dam inside John. He began to tell Joss about the disturbing dream of the little boy. He then told her how the dream had been different this time, and that's why he had called her. His voice became raspy as he looked deep into her eyes, asking her, "Why now, I don't understand, I don't know where this is coming from. I buried my father years ago. Why now?" His voice was guttural, tortured as he practically begged her for answers. Tears pooled on his eyelids, and it was taking a gargantuan effort to keep them from falling.

For a long time Joss sat silently beside John, holding his hand for comfort, and gathering her thoughts. She wanted to be sure she answered him in a way that would not make him close himself off from her again. He had finally bared his soul to her, and she didn't take that lightly.

Instead of answering his questions directly, she asked him one of her own. "John, exactly when did you start having this dream?" His answer was important because it could possibly lead to the answers for his other questions, and what was truly bothering him.

At first John seemed taken aback by the question, but he trusted her, and so he thought back to when the dream started. He was surprised when he remembered, "It was the night in your foyer. The night I walked away from you." His hand gripped hers a little tighter.

Joss placed her other hand over their twined fingers gently, looking deep into his still troubled and confused blue eyes. Then she asked, "Was your childhood a good one…before and after your father's death?"

John blinked. This question was so far out of left field that, at first, he couldn't answer. When he finally absorbed the question he answered truthfully. "Yes, my parents were good people. They loved me and cared for me as if I was their very own. I was adopted," he added when he saw the question in her eyes.

"What about after your dad died?" Joss persisted.

John's face darkened for a moment, but then a small smile graced his lips. Joss watched his eyes cloud with memories…good and bad…as a kaleidoscope of emotions flickered across his face. "At first, it was hard," John began softly. "I knew I had to be strong for my mom because she had loved dad so much. Eventually mom came to terms with dad's death, but there was always a sadness in her eyes. She was all I had until her death when I was twenty-two. When she died, I had no one," he finished quietly.

Joss remained silent, absorbing what he had said, a small crease between her brows. She spoke slowly, "You said your mom came to terms with your father's death, but," she hesitated for only a moment, "but did you…come to terms with his death? Were you ever at peace?"

Suddenly, John rose from the couch, and started pacing behind it. Joss turned where she sat, watching him with concern. "John?" she ventured softly.

"What difference does it make now?" John replied harshly. "My mother was happy, and that's all that mattered."

Swiftly rising from the couch, Joss moved to stand in front of John, stopping him in his tracks.

"It matters because you haven't dealt with your own loss as that eleven year old boy, and it has affected every choice you have ever made in your life. You shut yourself down at eleven years old, and you have used that to keep anyone from getting close. And that sadness in your mother's eyes? It wasn't for your father…it was for you," Joss stated softly, but firmly.

John stared down at Joss stunned, unable to speak. He had nothing to say because deep down he knew she was right. He had had so many questions after his father's death, but he never asked them for fear of hurting his mother. He had pretended his entire childhood after his dad died that he was alright when in reality he was withering inside. He had been spiraling deeper into a darkness he couldn't control, and when he joined the Army that darkness began to come unleashed. He had found a ray of light when he met Jessica, but even then, his own selfish insecurities made him lose her. The fact that she wouldn't tell her mother about them ate away at him, but he never questioned it. He just left, and walked right into the arms of the CIA who fostered that darkness that had been inside him for so long. Why not? He was just going to lose her like he lost everyone else, and he did lose her. Jessica died by the hands of her abusive husband before John could return to save her.

His father, his mother, Jessica…he had lost them all…and then John understood the question "Why?" in his dream. Why did he lose everyone he loved? Why did they leave him alone?

All these thoughts raced through John's mind at the speed of light. It was making his head spin. He vaguely felt Joss tug him back to the couch and sit him down gently, taking her place beside him. He felt her soft hand caress his face tenderly, and he turned to look into her soft brown eyes filled with understanding. It broke him. Once again he took her in his arms, crushing her to him desperately.

"I can't lose you, too, Joss," John whispered into her hair. "I just can't. I've lost everyone..."

Joss held him tightly to her. "You won't ever lose me, John. I'm not going anywhere… ever...I promise," she whispered back as tears leaked from her eyes.

A/N: So, where do they go from here? Is John ready to take a risk or will his deep-seeded fears from past loses keep him from reaching out for what Joss is offering him...A More Conventional Life? See you soon...