Title: Where My Mind is Lost, My Heart Knows Its Way Back to You
Summary: Vanya knows she doesn't belong in this time, in this place, with these people. But she knows she does with him, her husband, no matter what age he is, face he wears, or names he chooses. She belongs with him.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything
'You can't keep her here! She doesn't belong with you!'
'Because she belongs with you?!'
Vanya woke up with a start wondering if she only imaged it or actually heard someone's shout.
She was alone in the bedroom, no sign of her husband but the small light from under the doorway told her he was in the next room which was a small living room area connected with a little kitchen and bathroom.
As she got up and closer, she could hear voices, muffled by the door but still too loud in the darkness of night. No more shouting though.
Frowning, she put on her robe and without tying it up opened it for a second thinking she caught a flash of blue light before it was gone.
The room was empty, with the exception of her husband standing with his back to her. She could tell he was stressed. His shoulders and back looked tense, and his fingers were digging into his palms turning his knuckles almost white.
'What happened?' she asked blinking with a frown against the harsh light of the lamp, the only source of light in the living room.
He turned around shaking his head, 'Don't worry about it. I just had a bad dream.'
He looked upset, she could tell, but just like all those times before, the moment, his eyes land on her face they softened and made him look less like a grumpy old man.
She chuckled easing her own frown away just as he went to turn off the lamp and hide them once again in the dark of the night, 'Are you getting too old, dear? Talking to oneself is a sign of senility.'
He rolled his eyes pouting a bit, but she knew she could never offend him. She also knew, he secretly enjoyed it whenever she teased him a bit. She tried to do it more often now because of it. It was also entertaining if she was being completely honest with herself.
She was pleased whenever she made him laugh earning a kiss on the forehead and little praise, 'Very clever, my dear.'
She raised her hand nodding toward their bedroom. It was late after all, and he promised her, they would go sightseeing early in the morning to make avoid crowds. He claimed she never visit Athens before. She was excited even more because of that rambling about it for days much to his secret amusement he revealed every time she looked at him. Despite his cold and reserve façade, she could read him clearly when he looked at her. He was an open book of affection, care, maybe a bit of guilt, but overall love and safety whenever he looked at her. She wondered what did she do in her past life to be lucky enough to have a husband like him.
He took it but as she tried to pull him toward the direction of it, he stopped her and made her take a step closer to him.
His kisses were always very tender and loving like he was afraid she was fragile and made out glass destined to break if he put too much pressure, or heated and hungry like he wanted to devour her and show her just how brightly she could burn. She liked both of them equally depending on the situation always feeling the happiest and safest when he kissed her, and she didn't have to think about the things she didn't know or couldn't remember. This kiss was different.
It was almost bittersweet and made her feel sad and guilty like she should apologize to him for something.
'Did I do something wrong?' she asked as they broke the strange kiss, but her husband just shook his head and put his hand on her cheek stroking it carefully with his thumb, 'Even if you did, you were never solely to blame.'
Such an odd thing to say.
His smile didn't reach his eyes, but when he kissed her again, she recognized the familiar heat and quickly returned it.
His hands moved more openly and confidently through her robe and nightgown now. During the first time, she felt like laughing as his hands must have shaken more than hers.
'Dear, I thought I was the one who didn't remember this. For you it's nothing new,' she joked then to ease his worries earning a hush, you from her beloved husband.
Now they weren't shaking at all, as he pushed the robe over her shoulders careless to where it fell and then went for the straps of her nightgown. Apparently, he didn't want to waste time, she didn't mind. She liked it when he took charge like that.
His lips were intoxicatingly moving against her own with charged with energy kisses that force her to come alive. She briefly wondered if he would break the kiss to pull the nightgown out of the way, but instead, he pushed it down through her chest all the way to the ground.
Oh, she liked that idea much more.
Her arms went around his neck pulling him closer deepening the kiss as he buried one of his hand into her hair and let the other run through her back toward her ass in painfully slow motions he liked to torture her with almost every damn time. She stopped wearing underwear to bed after the first time they started to have sex again.
She knew he could be fast too. She learned so after their visit to Madrid where they had fifteen minutes before their bus would leave, but still found time for him to fuck her against the side of the hallway wall with two minutes to spare and about three almost getting caught moments.
'I hate you,' she told him fixing her skirt without meaning it still a bit unsteady on her feet.
His smirk was the cockiest thing ever as he zipped his pants, 'No, you love me, dear.'
She did. God, she did so damn much. Nothing in her life could make sense, but she loved her grumpy old man to the absolute bottom of hell and top of heaven with his smirk, teases, and kisses.
He liked to play with her hair, even now as his other hand reached between her legs from behind in search of her entrance, he let his fingers run through it almost lovingly. Since those first few days after the accident, he helped her shower, he seemed to almost have a fascination with her hair always willing to wash it for her almost to the point, she used it as a reward if she wanted something in return.
She moaned breaking the kiss when he reached inside her.
'So wet for me already?' he asked and even after all this time, it still made her blush when he talked like that, 'Always for you.'
Both of his hands moved to the back of her thighs before he picked her up. She knew by now to circle her legs around his waists and kiss him again as he often liked to carry her toward the bed.
'I hope it's not because you think I'm weak,' she told him when he did so the tenth time, picking her up when things got too heated in the kitchen since apparently watching her cook and being all wifey was too much for his control.
'No, I always imagined doing this with you,' he confessed with that strange look behind his green eyes he sometimes got.
Shaking her head, now, she kissed him again moaning at the familiar dance of their tongues. The first time he kissed her like that, she almost felt dizzy and thrown off as if it really was the first time.
'Were you the first man I ever kissed?' she asked him shortly after their first time.
He shook his head frowning a bit, her grumpy old man with reason or not could easily get jealous, she noticed, 'I don't know, honestly, darling, you didn't talk about it.'
She nodded frowning and feeling a bit annoyed with another memory she couldn't recall the way she did with the others before she realized something and smiled, 'Well, good, I kind of like to imagine you were my first and only kiss.'
The look on his face was enough for her to fall in love with him all over again, but the way he grabbed the back of her neck and kissed her again before dragging her back to their motel to show her how much it meant for him that she said it was a more than a nice bonus.
He carried her to the bed like she weighed nothing. Granted, she was a petite person and her husband often complained and argued with her to the point of refusing to leave until she would sit down and eat some more, but she still thought he must have been pretty strong to be able to carry her like this in his age.
He settled her down and threw away his sleeping shirt without undoing the buttons.
'You will make it all big and lose again,' she complained earning another eye roll before he pulled down his pants and boxers and tossed them aside as well. It would annoy the tidy person inside her, but he quickly made her forget all about it as he kissed her once more moving his hands over her chest taking care of her breast and erected nipples.
When they had time, like now, he could be painfully slow running his fingers over her body warming it up almost to the point she was afraid she would self-combust on the sheets. He seemed to have all the time in the world, which was in contrast with everything else he did as he often had to be in motion pacing, walking around, talking, writing his notes, never still like he was running out of time.
She often told him to come to sit with her and relax, but the best he could give her was a minute before he would be back at it again.
However, when it came to their lovemaking, he was so slow it was frustrating. He seemed to want to work her up despite her words that she didn't need it, that she was ready, that she wanted him now. Her husband didn't take well to orders even from her when it came to this. He didn't have a problem to occasionally give the control to her laying under her and letting her have her way with him, but when he was the one setting the pace, he made damn sure to be consistent no matter how much she begged or cursed at him.
He pushed her legs apart with his knees and trapped her nipple between his thumb and index finger firmly caressing it making it hard to continue the kisses without groans and moans.
'Please,' she tried to beg after a few moments, but he kissed her chin and then moved to her neck ignoring the pleading moving his free hand toward her clit instead.
'Please, I'm ready,' she tried again, but he just bit her neck making her half-cry out and half-moan. He loved to leave marks on her. Maybe he had a long-lived childhood dream of becoming an artist and she was his canvases he wanted to cover with red marks and dots for everyone who would look too close to see. She would be lying if she didn't blush from embarrassment every time, she caught someone actually looking at her neck confused about the red bruises shaped as his open-mouthed kisses and bites.
'You're mine, and I want everyone to know,' he whispered before he kissed the spot as an apology for the pain.
She giggled at that, 'Who else would I belong to?'
She thought he momentarily paused in his touches and kisses before his thumb pressed harder against her clit and stole her breath away as he once again started to work on her making her forget all about it.
Her husband moved lower then toward her chest kissing away the sweat and torturing her some more as he took her nipples in pleased with the noises, he forced out of her when he did that. His thumb didn't stop constantly rubbing those maddingly slow and distracting circles into her clit fueling her arousal.
'Ah! Please, I'm ready,' she tried to convince him but just like all those times before it didn't seem like it would work.
He sucked her harder before he let his teeth sink into the delicate flash along with his clever fingers making her lose her mind trashing under him, 'Please, Five!'
When he stopped it almost caused her to cry out startled by the absence of him leaving a rush of cold hit her still sweating and heated body. It caused a very unsettling feeling inside her of loneliness and emptiness. Would it feel like this if he ever left her? Why-why was she thinking about such horrible and gloomy things now?
She looked up at him, he was sitting up now looking a bit thrown off as well, 'John? Are you alright?'
It was during the first time they made love, that he begged her to call him Five instead of John. He claimed it was her secret nickname for him, the one she used only in the bedroom. He told her, he couldn't remember why did she call him that number of all the things, but she was never entirely convinced. Still, she didn't pressure him knowing some aspects of their lives were just that way and tried to make sure to only call him Five during sex. She could tell he loved it, as every time his eyes went almost feral when he pushing deeper into her, brushing or sucking her harder.
'Yes, just…don't call me that tonight,' he told her. It shocked her honestly and made her sit up with her legs still on the other side of his knees, 'Did something happen? Did I do something wrong?'
He shook his head and took her face into his palms kissing her sweetly once again, 'You? Never, my dear.'
She nodded although she didn't believe him, but allowed him to kiss her again and again until the kisses once again turned heated and hungry and all the wonderful things that bring out the sensation between her legs that made her once again dive into more primitive urges.
He didn't waste time starting from the top as she would half expect him, her husband never liked to be interrupted and if he was he would bloody cause her to almost lose her mind by starting all over again.
Instead, he pulled her legs further away and leaned down planting a couple of gentle kisses on either side of the inside of her thighs that always tickled her.
She giggled, and he looked at her, 'It's my favorite sound, you know.'
She smiled and ran her hand over his hair, 'I know, my love.'
His eyes revealed the vulnerability she knew he only ever allowed her to see.
The first time, they did this everything was new. Vanya never remembered doing this with her husband or anyone else, so she was a bit nervous even if she tried to play it off. She had been trying to seduce her man for over a month, and every time, she came close, he would pull away. He was giving her time to adjust, she knew that. Despite his cold façade and the grumpiness, she knew he was a good man, who cared for her dearly and would rather hurt himself than scare her or cause her harm. He was giving her time and space. He never did more than she asked for or needed. The only time, he ever seemed to cross the line, was when he was forced to help her bath and shower during her recovery, apart from that, he even chose to sleep on the couch like a gentleman until she sheepishly told him one night that she always felt scared and disoriented if she woke up alone and that maybe with him she would feel better. Even after that, he tried to put pillows between them or stay on his side. She had to pretend a bit to be asleep, not know she hugged him from behind or settled on his chest before waking up. After a while, he seemed to accept it. Shortly after that first kiss, when he finally started to allow them to be intimate again, he sat her down and told her he wouldn't try anything until she wanted to, not because she felt they needed to know as husband and wife, but because she really wanted to.
She was confused about what he meant. She did want to if she didn't, she wouldn't even try anything. She wouldn't even want to sleep next to him or kiss him if she didn't want to.
'You don't remember anything, Vanya,' he reminded her and took her hand in gently rubbing circles into the back of it with his thumb, 'I would never take advantage of you like that.'
'Just because I don't have my old memories, doesn't mean we can't make new ones, dear,' she told him with a smile looking into his eyes and hoping he could tell she meant it, 'I care for you, John. I love you. I know it's real. I can feel it. Memories or not.'
She stroked his cheek running her thumb over it all the way through his mustache to the corner of his lips, 'Nothing makes sense to me. Not this time, not this place, not the people around us,' she tried to explain just how out of place and alienlike she felt here, in Dallas ever since she woke up on the ground after the car ran her over, 'But with you, when you're next to me when it's just the two of us, I don't even care, nothing matters just us being together. When you're with me, when you look at me like this it all fades away. It doesn't have to make sense as long as you do. I don't need to remember anything as long as I have you,' she took his hand that was holding hers and pressed it against her chest over her slightly faster beating heart as she knew it was now or never that she let everything out in the open, 'I know how I feel about you, about us. It has nothing to do with us being married. It's just how I feel deep down. I think even if I can't remember my heart knows you and that I love you.'
That was the first time he ever revealed her vulnerability. She was almost used to the softness he seemed to only have for her, but this was something new and even more delicate and intimate. This was him opening himself completely to her, and she felt happier than ever that he did. When she took the initiative and kissed him, he didn't hold back and allowed them to proceed few a more times slowly increasing the dosage and intensity of the kisses as if he still expected her to call it quits and back down like she had a choice and wasn't completely bewitched by her grumpy odd man.
Finally, during their first time, it felt and seemed almost like the both of them were new in this as his hands shook when he unbuttoned her blouse making her feel so incredibly fond of him that she might as well fallen in love with him all over again. Once undressed and kissing again, it got better, natural even, there were times when he paused and looked at her as if he still didn't believe she was there or they were touching like that, but whenever she stroke his cheek or kiss him whispering, 'Don't get lost on me now.' (Something she started to say whenever she caught him spacing off into his mind palace thinking about something not even she could decode from his face expression) he always seemed to make it back to her focusing once again on the heat of the moment in which they caught themselves.
Since then it became easy and familiar, and Vanya almost always knew what to expect from her husband. When they were in the comfort of a bedroom with plenty of time to waste he was painfully slow, taking his damn time with her giving her more pleasure than she could handle seemingly deaf to her pleas and treats to hurry up, do her already and end their shared misery.
He wanted her to feel good and to want this, and every time he paused and looked into her eyes or asked, she fell in love with him a little bit more always assuring him she was alright or that she wanted what they were doing. He liked to start from the top, seducing her lips with intoxicating kisses and then move lower all the way to her womanhood before he would finally bury himself into her. He painted her skin like his personal masterpiece leaving marks all over her neck and chest for anyone to see if she wasn't covered properly. He was possessive like that, and she honestly felt a bit proud in secret when she examined her new markings in the mornings over a mirror. He liked to tease her breast and nipples knowing she was sensitive there, and from time to time liked to make her come from that alone even if so far he only managed to do so two times. He could be very determined when he decided to give her an orgasm. Vanya wondered if it was due to his stubbornness, need to prove himself and always be the best, or simply because he loved taking care of her and making her feel good. Probably all of the above. It didn't matter if he made her come with fingers or mouth, he always made sure she came at least two times before he would give himself the same release oblivious to any protest or complains.
'I want to make you feel good too,'she tried to argue once when she almost tricked him into letting her blow him before he would do her.
He pushed her on her back with a smirk, 'You make me feel good just by being in the room.'
She tried to stay upset, but it was pretty hard when he forced his tongue to do that trick and made her see stars soon after.
When she was a mess trashing on the bed, sweaty, thirsty and desperate to feel him inside her saying she couldn't take it anymore with a desperation that couldn't be faked even if she wanted to, that was when her dear husband, finally decided to raise up licking his lips, never embarrassed or disgusted by how wet she was or how hard she came, giving her a moment to catch her breath while silently asking if it was alright before entering her with a slow but so profound move she thought she would come again just from that alone.
It wasn't always the same of course. Sometimes they spiced things up with different positions. Once they moved passed the first sweet yet unsure time, they were almost insatiable trying out everything at least once to find out exactly what they liked and whatnot. Sometimes she wondered if it shouldn't be strange, that he acted like it was all new to himself as well, but she tried to convince herself it was due to her not remembering their times before. She was almost a new person after all. So they had to start again with everything, so to speak.
'I'm sorry…I really can't remember,' she told him frustrated and embarrassed ready to start crying any moment as they stood in a music shop, her hands gripping the violin and bow but her mind blank. He told her, she played the violin all her life and was very good at it. She could tell, he would give anything to hear her again, and Vanya secretly hoped that if she held one in her hands, she would be able to remember how to play the way doctors in the hospital encouraged her to try familiar things to start her memory. But unfortunately, it was no use, she couldn't remember and felt so incredibly sad because she wanted to make her husband happy and do something nice for him as he did so much and so many nice things for her.
He took the instrument from her hands and set it into the case before taking her hands with nothing but softness and love radiating from his face, 'It doesn't matter, Vanya. I'm just glad you're with me. Besides, it's thrilling to see the new you and what kind of person you will become this time around.'
She still cried wondering how could she possibly deserve such a carrying and understanding man who always seemed to know how to make her feel better.
Now, he pushed her legs over his shoulders hiding his face into her womanhood instantly getting to work. Over the course of the last couple of months, they visited so many beautiful sights and places, and yet Vanya swore seeing her husband with her legs over his shoulders and face on top of her was the most enchanting image in the whole wide world.
He was restless and skilled making her fall back against the bed in no time always making sure she got to the point it was too much. Vanya was sure this was how being worshiped felt like. Divining, bestial, explosive, and delirious. She almost never wanted him to stop, but every damn time he seemed to push her too much as she cried digging her nails into his scalp begging him to release her from the euphoric torture.
As he rose up, he slowly let her legs to the bed and stroke her cheek looking all too pleased with himself, and yet a bit haunted.
'John-?' she tried, but he shook his head kissed her to silence her, and whatever she wanted to say or ask. She forgot all about it as he guided himself inside her letting out an animalistic growl in the process.
'You're always so tight, so perfect for me,' he groaned into her neck as he mercilessly thrust into her, 'Like you were made for me.'
She didn't understand her own words as she replied to him too consumed by the sensation.
Everything faded when they were like this, two lovers in the heat of their love pushing away all humanity only left with urges and primal feelings that told them what to do, how to move, how to feel more and better. They rarely talked, often just shouting out words of praise and curses when they got this far. It was hard to think, and personally, Vanya loved the most to lose herself in the feelings and not have to think about anything. It all felt much simpler like that. There were no memories missing, and confusing feelings, or things she couldn't explain. They were no questions about their previous life that she didn't have the courage to ask fearing she would ruin the peace and beauty of her new life. There were no heavy silences after moments of intense happiness as if they both realized they should be guilty and ashamed for being happy. Why though? Vanya couldn't remember, even if she knew John could but wouldn't tell her if she didn't ask. And she wouldn't.
'Five, harder!' she cried digging her fingers into his back deep enough to cause the skin to bleed already too far to realize she wasn't supposed to call him that tonight.
He started to push harder and deeper, and before she could tell him, she was close, she felt herself crashing down everything exploding in bright colors that turn into pure whiteness leaving her blind to everything from sight to touch, a complete mess.
She didn't even notice when he came until she came back to herself feeling his heavy and sweaty body collapse on over hers, his head pressed against her chest as he was breathing hard into her skin.
Slowly all her senses came back to her, and she hugged him close letting her fingers stroke his hair lovingly.
It always felt incredibly quiet and peaceful afterward, when they were together like this alone in a bed together. She used to think she felt peace whenever they were on their own in daylight or going to bed, but only like this, she learned the true meaning of the word peace.
When she woke up in the hospital, it was painful and chaotic. Her head hurt. The machines were so damn loud. The doctors and nurses constantly complained about electric failures and strange weather. Then her husband showed up.
She woke up from the sedative haze only to find him in the room looking at her even before he told her his name or who he was, she instantly felt at peace, calm, and relaxed for the first time since the car accident, since she could remember.
She reached out for him, and he looked so startled that she immediately took her hand in his. She fell asleep soon afterward, but the nurses that came the next morning told her, her husband stopped by and brought her some things and that he would come again in a few hours.
'Hello, dear, I'm sorry, I can't really remember much,' she told him immediately after he showed up again with new clothes and their documents and a strangely looking briefcase, he wouldn't put down even for a moment.
He blinked confused but eventually brushed her cheek with care and told her to rest.
Those first few days were mostly like that. She woke up and sometimes he was there looking after her bring her things, being a good husband, taking care of her. When he was there, she was calm usually or settling down quickly if she wasn't, but when he was gone, the headaches and loud noises returned making her scream and cry scaring the staff.
It lasted for exactly five days even if she was sure the doctor said she should stay a few more, but one evening her husband came helped her get dressed and took her to a hotel.
He took care of her on his own after that making sure she was well fed, dressed, taking a bath or shower, changed her bandages, and whatever else she needed. They traveled soon afterward. First just around the state, then around the country until he asked if she would like to see the world.
She was thrilled to receive new memories, but mostly she was happy he was with her. She took it as a gift, and even if she didn't know why she always felt this dread inside her chest whenever he stepped away leaving her alone.
'Sometimes, I'm scared you won't return,' she told him those few weeks when he was still helping her shower, washing her hair since she knew it was something, he liked to do, 'I know it's silly, but I can't help it. I don't know why.'
He told her not to be stupid. That he would never leave her just like he had promised her in the hospital.
Either way, they traveled around Europe, visiting countries she knew about, but supposedly never been to. It was strange. She knew how to drive, she knew what everything was called, she knew to get dressed, use a fork and knife and what was sex, but everything from her life before the alley she turned up in and the car that hit her was lost to her. No voices, no faces, no images, just nothing. A blank piece of paper.
But…not quite.
Sometimes, really just sometimes and very far times between she could have sworn she did remember something, someone, mainly her husband of course, but on occasions, right before waking up, she swore she could almost remember. Who or what she never knew upon actually waking up, but for a few moments, she knew those memories were there. Hidden or locked she didn't know, but every time she did wake up to find the man, she loved peacefully laying next to her, she didn't even care all that much.
Vanya felt him kiss her chest between her breast and lean up to look at her. His expression was different. Not one she had ever seen before, and she couldn't understand why it made her feel so incredibly sad to see him look like this.
'I love you, Vanya,' he said, and she couldn't help but smile chasing the sadness away just like she did every time she heard him say those words. She just felt so unspeakably happy whenever he said those words knowing he meant it, knowing that there was someone who loved her so damn much like that. Especially someone who she loved as well.
She touched his cheek and let her thumb run across his face, 'I love you too.'
She felt happy and at peace. Everything was the way it should be once again. With memories or without them.
When the first flashes of sun started to creep from under the curtains, Vanya woke up only to find the spot next to her on the bed empty.
She quickly put on the nightgown and the robe and opened the door a terribly dread settling in her chest before she spotted the young man sitting by the kitchen table.
He rose his head to look at her since he was previously looking at his hands seemingly in stress.
Neither of them moved for a moment, as she tried to gather her thoughts the dread from her husband's absence eased the moment, she saw the young man. He looked around fifteen still carrying a childlike face that was facing her with the softness, she instantly recognized as her husband's.
She made her way closer just as the boy stood up, 'I didn't want you to wake up all alone. I didn't want you to worry.'
She blinked at the young man's words remembering about why she woke up alone in the first place, 'Where's-'
'Gone. He left. I told him he could say goodbye, but we both know he wouldn't be able to go if he did that,' said the boy and frowned looking like he aged decades when he did that.
'Gone,' she repeated softly although she felt a wave of anger rush through her. Gone. Left. Abandoned her.
He said he wouldn't. He promised he wouldn't. In the hospital when she was so sad and weak and everything hurt and her ears wouldn't stop ringing, he took her into his arms and let her bury herself against his chest and whispered over and over again that he would never leave her, that she would never be alone or scared ever again. He would never allow anyone to get her and take her away from him. And she believed him. She knew he wasn't lying. She knew he meant it and even if he hid things from her and told her not to worry pushing her focus away what he told her in the hospital about never abandoning her she knew was the truth. Maybe the only truth he ever said in his entire life.
'I'm sorry, I know this is confusing, I…are you hungry? He said you lose sugar quickly when you're stressed, and you should eat frequently,' said the young man, still a boy really, and Vanya looked up at him as he turned slightly toward the counter. Yes, her husband said that often, it was what the doctors told them in the hospital so he made it his mission to get her to eat properly no matter the time and place.
She found herself losing the frown and feeling the anger melt away upon looking at the boy. He looked so familiar it was almost painful and made her want to more than ever with her husband remember why this boy looked so familiar.
She started to walk toward him which was probably the wrong thing to do since the boy took a startled step back surprising both of them based on the look on his face.
So familiar….
Vanya couldn't help but think about sandwiches, and soft whispers of children in the night while holding hands, weak secret smiles, and careful innocent touches when no one was looking. Her mind wondered about walls covered with notes, an empty bed, and a portrait of a lost boy with eyes colder than they should be.
She took another step closer, this time, the young man, but still a boy seemed to prepare himself for that or forced himself to remain still.
Carefully, she raised her hand and pressed it against the boy's face. His skin was soft, much softer than her husband's due to being younger and when she rose her thumb and started to run it across it, it didn't take her as long to reach the corner of his lips. There was no mustache and the hair that was certainly longer than that of her husband and was dark and thick but made her want to run her fingers through it all the same knowing it wouldn't feel all that different to do so.
When Vanya looked into his green eyes and saw the same vulnerability she saw inside her husband's eyes that handful of times, she knew. His eyes looked the same. There were knowledge and experience that went far deeper and longer than any human's lifespan should allow a man to have, and there was pain and guilt of the things he committed and couldn't and wouldn't change knowing it was the only way. There was also softness, care, and love as he looked at her. Feelings that ran deeper than wounds and mistakes of the past. Feelings they shared only toward each other.
In a few years, this boy would be as tall as her husband, and in a few more he would have the same silver hair and carefully tended mustache.
It wasn't confusing.
Everything in this world, in this time, in these places, with these people. It was always confusing to Vanya making her feel like she didn't belong like she was out of this time, and out of this place, an alien, a foreigner, who got lost here and didn't fit in no matter what she wore or said.
Only with her husband around, whether he was in the hospital with her, or the many motels and hotel rooms, trains and buses they changed over the course of the last few months, only with him she never felt like that. Despite not remembering anything, she was never felt scared or confused with him. As long as he was with her in the room, she felt safe and that she could trust him and all would be well. She felt like she belonged and all those things like care, love, and affection just like she felt right now as she watched the face of the boy in front for her knowing once again by heart even if not by memories who he really was.
'Five,' she whispered softly, and the boy opened his mouth, his eyes so weak and small almost scared. It made her want to hug him and keep him in her arms to protect him from feeling like that.
He should never feel like that when he was around her. She was his wife after all. She was supposed to protect him and make him feel better as he had her before.
He closed his mouth probably not knowing what to say. She didn't either anymore, but as long as her husband, John, Five, the old man, the young man, the boy, whoever he wanted to be or whatever he wanted to call himself, was here with her, she knew it would be alright.
'Coffee? Black, no milk or sugar,' she said knowing all too well how he took his ambrosia. She was his wife after all and in a few years, he could grow a mustache and kiss her again sweetly or hungrily whichever he preferred.
A.N: Hey, I know I usually make very clear happy endings, but I decided to make this a bit angsty. I still consider this a happy ending since Old man Five went back to 2019 to seduce a new Vanya, while young Five stayed here with amnesic Vanya to try and seduce her once he comes to a certain age. :D I have confidence in his skills that he will either find a way to age-up or get his old body back or suffer blue balls until he turns 18 and has his way with Vanya again. Just to explain, he did look older than in the show because Vanya and old Five spent almost a year traveling, and well, we know Five ages. Thank you again for your support and reading. I hope you like it :) Have a nice day and stay safe.