Author's note: Trying to ease myself back into writing, and after the Holby finale (the less said about that finale, the better...), I really want to write a long fic focusing on Henrik adjusting to leaving Holby and moving to Leeds with Russ all while coping with his grief for Jac. I wanted that to be my first post-Holby fic.

But I haven't figured out how to write it yet. But I'd feel bad if I wrote another Henrik POV fic before that one. So... here I am with a John POV fic, instead. (Plus, it's May 2022 and my last Johnrik fic was in June 2021. If I went a whole year without writing a Johnrik fic that would've been a travesty.) Based off, and titled from, a song that is absolutely PERFECT for them: "I Fold" by Hello Saferide. (AKA... Annika Norlin. Yes, the title of my previous fic was also from one of her songs. I know. Honestly, I swear if it weren't for Annika Norlin I'd never get any writing done these days lol.) Listen to it before you read this, please.

I mean, is there anything more Johnrik than a song about being in love with a man who wants a girl named Maja more than you? (OK, so all the lyric websites insist it's spelt "Maia". Whatever. The pronunciation is the same.) So yeah, here's a fic.

I said it in the summary but I'll reiterate it again, there are lots of potential triggers here. The main ones are heavy focus on Henrik's suicide attempt, references to John's background as a victim of human trafficking and child abuse (hints specifically at sexual abuse if you squint, but not necessarily so), and hints to Henrik's background as a CSA survivor. There's also some internalised homophobia and internalised ableism from John, and references to Henrik's drinking problem. What can I say, this isn't a very happy fic.


April 1987

John has only known Henrik Hanssen for a matter of weeks, but there are five things he's learned about him.

One: Henrik is from Sweden, and before he came here, he was studying medicine at the Karolinska Institute there. He grew up in England, though – at a fancy London boarding school, the sort of place so far removed from John's own upbringing that he can hardly even imagine it properly – and that, apparently, is why he speaks with a perfect English accent, his name the only giveaway that he's not a British native.

Two: Henrik is bright. He's far brighter than John, for certain, and maybe even brighter than David. He seems, John thinks, like the sort of person who was born to be a doctor. He's going to go far in his career. He's going to achieve amazing things, and John will be left in the dust. He could never compare to Henrik, after all.

Three: Henrik isn't like other people. He misses others' jokes and he says socially inappropriate things and he doesn't relate to others very well (he doesn't ever seem sociable unless he's drunk, something he is often enough that John almost thinks it seems like some sort of coping mechanism) and his expression barely ever changes and he somehow seems both younger and older than his real age. He moves with a stiff awkwardness that John finds, somehow, to be the most graceful thing he's ever seen.

None of this is a problem to John. In fact, Henrik makes more sense than just about anyone else John has ever met. And John of all people would be a hypocrite to judge him. John's the one, after all, who hears voices that aren't there. John has his own dull monotone, his own blank expression, his own odd combination of stiffness and restlessness. John is an oddity in his own right, so how could he ever judge Henrik's strangeness?

Four: Henrik is the most beautiful man John has ever seen.

Five: He has a girlfriend.

John only found the last thing out a few days ago. Henrik was sharing an anecdote from Karolinska, John doesn't even remember what it was about now, and mentioned his girlfriend Maja. John had said he didn't realise Henrik had a girlfriend. Henrik had given John some sort of look before affirming that he did, and then to make matters worse he started talking about how wonderful she was and how lucky he was to have her and how excited he was to finish med school so he could practice with her in Sweden.

If she's so great, why did you transfer here instead of staying in Sweden with her? John had bitterly wanted to ask. He ended up saying only the latter part.

Henrik had stopped making eye contact, turned away and murmured something about Rigden just seeming like a better option and it being good to get medical experience in a variety of settings.

John had just sat there all the while, quietly resentful of this Maja and of Henrik's feelings for her. He should have known. What were the chances Henrik would even be gay, let alone that he'd be able to love someone like John?

Today, Henrik is showing John some photos he'd had taken of him and Maja back in Sweden. They look so happy, like a perfect couple. And Maja, of course, is gorgeous. She's the epitome of conventional beauty, blonde and blue-eyed and petite. Any man would be lucky to have her, really.

It makes John bitter. Bitter that Henrik's already taken, first and foremost. Why would Henrik ever want John when he could have her? But there's a quieter bitterness in the back of his mind, towards Henrik himself, for having what John cannot. What John could only fake, at best.

As he tries to figure out if he envies Henrik more for being straight, for having it so easy in this world, or Maja for being with Henrik, John finds himself making some bland comment about how Maja sounds great and Henrik's really found himself a catch. Or something. John doesn't really know what he's saying. He can barely hear himself over the noise of his own thoughts. He lets Henrik ramble on about when each of the photos were taken. He nods in the right places. It's easier than having to respond.


July 1987

Henrik is in Sweden, with Maja, for the summer. John hasn't heard a word from him since he left.

No surprise, really. Henrik's probably having the time of his life, in his hometown, with his girlfriend. Maja's probably better than John in every aspect: prettier, smarter, more fun to be around, probably even better in bed than John could ever be even if he somehow got the chance. And first and foremost, Maja, John is sure, is normal. John's sure Maja doesn't hear voices or see things that aren't there. Maja will have lived a regular life. She will have grown up in a nice house somewhere with her parents. Hell, Maja's parents are probably doctors themselves. When Henrik's in bed with Maja, he won't see a brand on her hip. Maja wasn't a victim of… of…

Point is, Maja's a normal person with a normal life and a brain that actually works right. When he's with someone like her, why would Henrik bother calling or even so much as writing to John?

John's tried, regardless, though: on the last day of the semester, he gave Henrik his phone number, gave him the address of the tiny apartment he's renting (with no real home to go back to, John had had to find somewhere to spend the summers), but there's been nothing. No phone calls. No letters. No postcards, even.

Maybe that's a good thing. John isn't sure. Maybe knowing about all the fun Henrik was having back home would just make John feel worse.

But right now, knowing Henrik probably hasn't even thought about him for a second since saying goodbye for the summer feels pretty damn bad.


October 1987

John knows three more things now.

One: He's just had to pull Henrik, shivering and sobbing and coughing and clinging onto John for dear life, from a lake. Henrik was trying to drown himself. John knew of Henrik's suicidal tendencies, he'd once let something slip about having tried to kill himself when he was fifteen years old, but John thought it was in the past.

But it's not. And John doesn't know what to do. Suddenly it's hit him that Henrik could just up and abandon him. He could walk away, or worse. John doesn't want that to happen, but what can he actually do to stop it? If he pulls away to give Henrik space, Henrik could think he's being ignored and try to end his life again, potentially more successfully.

But if he gets even closer, if he dedicates himself to protecting Henrik, then Henrik could get fed up and leave him… or, God forbid, he could realise John loves him. John doesn't want to risk that, either. At best Henrik would be put off, he'd pity John, and they'd slowly, agonisingly drift apart. More likely, he'd be disgusted, and he'd cut John off quickly. And then John wouldn't be able to protect him anymore. Wouldn't be there to look after him. If John crossed a line, who would be there for Henrik? Who would calm him down when he was upset? Who would guide him through social situations? Who would help him to bed at 3 A.M. when he's had too much to drink and can hardly keep his balance? Who would offer him little sips of water the following morning, and keep an eye on him the whole day to nurse him through the hangover?

Suddenly, John's beginning to realise that anything he does could have bad consequences for Henrik, and he'd be a liar if he said he wasn't scared.

Two: Henrik loves Roxanna. Of course he does. The woman's only been here all of five minutes and Henrik's already talking about her like she's the love of his life. Already crying to John about how Roxanna could never love him.

It makes John want to scream and shout and say 'who cares whether Roxanna loves you, I love you, I need you, I'm right here and I love you please just love me back'.

He doesn't – can't. He can't say 'I love you'.

All he can do is beg Henrik not to leave him.

Three: Maja Landin is pregnant. With Henrik's child. And Henrik is insisting on not being there for the kid.

Which means Henrik's breaking things off with Maja, something John supposes is a silver lining to all this. That makes John a terrible person, probably, but he can't really say he gives a damn. At least he'll never have to hear about how wonderful and perfect Maja is again or hear about any more letters or phone calls from her. The first months Henrik was here, he'd act like Maja didn't exist for days at a time and John would almost be able to forget about her, and then suddenly he'd bring her up again and it would be all Maja, Maja, Maja for a day or two. As if he had something to prove.

Too bad, though, John thinks, that the litany of Maja, Maja, Maja is just going to be replaced with Roxanna, Roxanna, Roxanna. Of course the moment Henrik moved on from Maja he had to find another woman to fall in love with. Of fucking course he did. That's John's luck.

He knows he has to accept that Henrik can't love him back, and move on. That's what any sane person would do. But John's not sure he's ever been sane, so, well… here he is.

Besides, Henrik needs him. He may not need John the way John wants Henrik to need him, but he needs John nonetheless. He's ill. John knew that before, but tonight has shown him the severity of it. And Henrik doesn't have many friends here (John's not even sure, from what Henrik's told him, that he has many in Sweden either), so if John's the only person he'll open up to about it… if John's the only person he'll trust here… then John has to be there. He just has to push down his own pain, disregard it, so he can focus on easing Henrik's.

John's in the midst of trying to comfort Henrik, trying to assure him that he's going to be fine and that he has a wonderful career ahead of him, when suddenly Henrik leans in and, almost before John knows it, kisses him.

John doesn't know how to process that, but kisses Henrik back anyway. Henrik leans closer, wraps his arms around John. Somewhere along the way things escalate, and John tries not to think about the fact that he knows Henrik will regret this tomorrow, that a night that will mean the world to John is going to be reduced to a mistake that should be forgotten in Henrik's mind.

After, Henrik admits that tonight was the first time he's ever done anything sexual with another man. He says it insistently, like he views it as an achievement. He says it as though he needs to say it. As though he needs John to know it.

It's a pointless confession, really. John could've guessed. Henrik's already said before that Maja took his virginity.

But the way Henrik says it makes John think he shouldn't point that out. John's not even convinced the confession was meant for him. It was more for Henrik himself, it seems. Perhaps an assurance to himself that this was all a fluke. An experiment. An impulsive decision made while in a poor frame of mind.

Thinking too hard about Henrik viewing sex with John as a mistake only makes John feel bad, so he changes the subject and asks something-or-other about Roxanna's music taste.


June 2014

John is wandering the streets of Stockholm, trying to find the hotel he'd booked when he came here for a neurosurgery conference.

Right when he thinks he's heading in the right direction, he sees two people ahead of him, and he'd recognise Henrik anywhere. He's only ever seen Maja in photos, though, and that was decades ago: so it takes him a moment to realise just who the blonde woman walking next to Henrik is. But when he does, he feels sick.

Henrik's holding her hand. She's laughing about something. John slows his pace, not wanting to be noticed.

John hasn't heard from Henrik in a long while. Maybe this is why. Henrik probably felt guilty about being back with Maja. He probably didn't want to hurt John's feelings by telling him.

Of course, circumstances have conspired to make sure John found out anyway.

John watches them, for some moments. Then he averts his gaze; if he's further unlucky and Henrik sees him, he can't just be caught staring. Can't be caught imagining himself in Maja's position.

It's none of John's business whom Henrik dates. He does know that. It wasn't his business in 1987 when he introduced Roxanna to David (though they're happily married now, so John didn't truly do anything wrong, did he? Even though his motivations were fuelled by jealousy?), and it's certainly not his business by now.

That doesn't make it any easier, though.

John looks back at Henrik and Maja again. Watches them walk away. Breathes a near-silent sigh of relief when they're finally out of his eyeline.