I know, long time since the last update here and I feel pretty guilty for it :3

This chapter picks up at the bathroom-scene from the last chapter.

"How long can I stay?" I asked just above a whisper and my voice sounded as hollow as I felt.

The question weighed down heavy on me ever since John had bailed me out of jail and told me we would go home… together. To see him there… gosh, it had scared me to see him there. I never wanted him to know what had happened.

This all… was so much worse than any nightmare could ever be. All of this. And it just wouldn't end…

Desperation didn't even come close to what I felt. I had passed the point of being desperate long ago and even the numbness which had settled over me couldn't dull the pain I was feeling. It was there, ablaze, burning me from inside. I felt like breaking apart any moment…

I kept still while he cleaned my hands and my face from the blood. Or rather I tried to keep still. I did my best not to give any sound of discomfort, but as much as I willed myself not to move, I flinched, because the bruise on my cheeck hurt like hell.

"What do you mean?" he asked then, stopping his ministrations for a moment.

I almost wanted to laugh at his counterquestion. He knew what I meant. How could he not? He had kicked me out, had told me to leave his life and rightly so… but now I was sitting here… I was here. Not an hour ago I had thought that I would never be allowed to come back here. I began to chew on my lower lip but stopped immediately as it jarred the cut on my upper lip, wincing at the stinging pain.

John sighed quietly and I waited in defeat to hear him tell me that he wanted me to leave again tomorrow, because why would he want me to stay longer? I waited. And feared the words.

He lifted his hand then, reached out and touched my cheek so very gently that my chest clenched. Tears stung in my eyes. I had missed his touch so much…

"What happened?" he asked as his finger travelled over the bruise.

I blinked once, willed the tears not to fall and turned my face towards the touch, because I needed it, so very much, wanted, needed more of it. Yet if possible my heart sunk even more at his question. I knew he would ask it and I was afraid of how he would react to my answer. I had to tell him now that I had started a brawl in a bar, because some asshole had tried to take the ring, his ring, which I shouldn't even have, away from me. What if he hated even more afterwards?

What if he would take the ring away from me…?

Gazing down at my hand which was curled to a fist, hurting from holding on to the ring so tightly, I gathered my courage.

"That bastard… he… he wanted to take it away from me," I said slowly, my voice trailing off to a whisper, breaking at the words while my fear grew with every word a little more.

"It?" he murmured.

I didn't dare looking up to him. I allowed myself a second longer to feel the ring in my hand. Maybe it was the last time I could feel it. And then… I unfurled my fingers, revealing the little item. And John… froze, staring at my hand like… like…

He was shocked.

"I was at a bar and there was a guy who took it and I..." I explained, still whispering because I knew my voice would break again, fail me if I tried to speak louder and the tears which had been burning in my eyes fell. "I had to get it back." And because I knew how it must've sounded to him I added quickly: "I didn't drink alcohol, John. Not a single drop and I swear I'm never gonna drink again. I... I'm so sorry... so sorry..."

Hoping. I was hoping, praying that he would believe me that I hadn't been drinking again. And I prayed that he understood how much this ring meant to me, because... God... I prayed that he understood that he was my life...

I watched his expression change, saw something shift his eyes and there was the tiniest flicker of hope glinting in my chest that there was a real chance. He bowed his head then and sat back on his heels. The shuddering breath he took caused mine to get stuck in my throat, because it brought... tears along. John... John cried... and it hurt me to see it. I wanted to reach out to him and wipe the tears away. I wished I just could do it. Touch him. Like I used to do. But I... I didn't dare touching him...

But then he moved, laying his hand on mine. Palm against palm with the ring like a link in between. My heart, it was running already, but now it began to pound hard against my chest, stealing my breath and bringing a dizziness with.

When he spoke again, his voice was raw.

"You didn't sleep with Sam."

I heard him, but I couldn't believe it. My breath hitched as I tried hard to keep on breathing, my heart stopped and for a painful moment I was sure that this was only a dream.

Please, don't let this be a dream, I prayed to what higher spirit there was above us, while the fear that this couldn't be real was eating me up from inside.

Hot tears spilled from my eyes, fell from my face and I couldn't have cared less. John gazed at me again. It was guilt I found in those baby blues. And love? Love… And suddenly I felt my mind shut down, slowly but unstoppable as all of this became too much, leaving me floating helpless in this surreal situation. I hurt. Yet not. And through this veil I faintly heard John say that Sam had made me the hickey while I was alseep, that I never had touched her. I heard him say how sorry he was and that he never should have doubted me. But how could he not have doubted me after all that had happened when… when I had doubted myself?

"Don't worry… I have doubted myself…" I replied, wondering somewhere in a dark corner of my whirling mind how neutral, almost sober my voice was… while the past days came rushing back to me in a mighty clash.

My fingers curled around the ring to hold it tight, because if not, it might have drifted away from me… as I let go… and broke apart. A twisted little sound crawled up my throat, passed my lips and evolved to a sick mixture of laughter and sobbing. Leaning forward in an attempt to curl up to a ball to hide away, I felt John put his arms around me to pull me in against him as he whispered my name. With a wail I buried my name against his neck, wrapping my arms around him, holding on to him.

This wasn't a dream. This was John, holding me. My John… No hard words, no being pushed away…

I was crying for what felt like forever, cried tears I didn't know I had left. Cried until my throat burned and my body ached. I fell, but those arms I knew so well caught me, saved me, held me tight, tighter, until there was no space left between us. I only realized that I was trembling uncontrollably because it subsided under his touch. I still couldn't believe that this was real. All the pain, the fear and desperation… it was over… just like that… just… like that… I whispered John's name and it was a mere sob on my lips, but for the first time in days it wasn't begging, didn't carry a plea… wasn't filled with agony. It carried hope, the one which was beginning to glow deep within me. A hand brushed up, cradling my head tenderly, while whispering my name so infinitely loving that it tugged achingly at my already torn heart.

I had no idea how long we had been sitting like this when my tears eventually stopped falling. The tears had washed away the numbness I had been feeling, leaving me raw to my feelings. A barely audible groan escaped my throat, getting lost between us. Or maybe not.

Gingerly John pulled me even closer as he sat back again and I let him, slipped from the rim of the tub until I was straddling his thighs. My whole being… it narrowed on John. On his warmth, his body against mine, those strong arms sheltering me. His skin against mine. His scent. His voice as he said my name again.

"I got you," he said just above a whisper. "I got you. And I'm not gonna let you go again, you hear me?"

His arm around my back moved and his hand found a way under my shirt, the simple touch as he splayed his finger over my skin making me shiver heavily, causing a tingle to run along my spine. It was like balsam for the wounds the past days had left, soothing the pain away.

Hesitantly I leaned back, because I needed to see him, and as I did I felt the hand which had cradled my head cup my jaw instead. His face was wet from his own tears, his eyes red and his expression utterly exhausted. As exhausted as I felt. But there was also a confident, warm smile on his lips. I gazed at him, wondering how he could be so strong after all that had happened, catching me when he needed someone himself to catch him, and I had no idea how to make up to him.

My precious John...

Lifting my free hand up to his face, I gently brushed my thumb over his tearstained cheek, and my heart jumped in a joy I hadn't felt in a long time as he turned his face, breathing a kiss to my palm and his eyes, though reddened from crying, were sparkling, bright and beautiful. The smile I managed was shaky though, but it was a real one.

Yet it almost died on my lips as I said: "I… I have no words for how sorry I am, John. For everything. And I have no idea how to make up to you, but I promise that if you give me the chance, I'm gonna do whatever it takes that you can forgive me."

"We both have made mistakes, Randy," John sighed, but the smile on his lips never ceased. "I know that I've overreacted and can only apologize for being a complete asshole. And God knows that this is not even the right word for it."

I shook my head softly, because, yeah, his reaction had been… devastating and a side of John that I had never seen before, still I wanted to tell him that he wasn't an asshole for reacting how he had done. I couldn't even imagine how I would have reacted when our roles had been reversed. But before I could, another sigh dropped from his lips as his hand vanished from my face to gently lift mine away from his face. For a second or two he gazed at my sore knuckled, turned my hand and placed another kiss on my palm. His lips lingered there for a moment and it sent a wave of goosebumps up my arm.

"You know, after you told me we should take a break, I…" he began quietly. He kept holding my hand, but didn't meet my eyes as he continued: "I was so disappointed, because all the time I thought our life is perfect and suddenly I realize that it isn't, that you carried that with you the whole time. It felt a bit like… you thought you couldn't tell me the truth. Or as if you didn't want to tell me… I always thought there are no secrets between us and suddenly I realize I have been wrong the whole time." His thumb brushed over the back of my hand, back and forth… back and forth… slowly, softly… "When I came back home and found you there, I really hoped we could just forget the whole thing and make it better. And then you told me that… you and Sam…"

He fell silent, closing his eyes. Maybe against the memories, maybe against rising tears. My heart tripped and ached to hear all this, but compared to the pain of the past days it was… okay. In the attempt to give him some comfort, I rested my forehead against his and felt my hand being squeezed very gently.

"It was the ultimate betrayal for me," he mumbled then and his words ripped through me. "I was so disappointed, so angry and hurt. I wanted to spend my life with you. I wanted it to be our life and then suddenly nothing was left. I guess I shut down at that point. Having you around was too painful." The single laughter he gave was almost unbearably bitter, but he met my eyes now, and those precious orbs were glistening with tears again, yet they were also filled with apologies and glowing with love. "I'm sorry, Randy. I'm so very sorry. Just promise me that from now on there won't be any secrets, okay? I don't want to lose you again."

In an odd way those words, grave, heavy, bitter and much too real, seemed to want to push us apart. I breathed his name, wanting to breathe those words away from us and tightening my hold on him, just as he held me closer the very same moment, I felt a smile rise to my lips again as I felt them fade.

"Promise, Johnny. No more secrets. I never really wanted to break up with you and I know that you always find a way, that I simply should have trusted you," I murmured, savoring the feeling of being close to him. "I really only went to Sam because I wanted to see Alanna. I know I that shooting me into oblivion was… I shouldn't have done it. And I promise, I'm never gonna drink again." He let go of my hand, smoothing up my arm and to the back of my neck, allowing his fingers to play with my hair and the innocent touch made me shiver. "When I saw the hickey… I couldn't remember anything and it almost killed me that I obviously had betrayed you. And then all I could think of was that I had to tell you the truth, hoping that you would give me another chance. You had every right to kick me out, Johnny." This time it was me who sighed as the memory of Stephen showing me the ring came back to me. "Stephen told me that you wanted to propose to me and he gave me the ring." Tilting my head a bit I brought my lips a bit closer to his, not to kiss him, but to feel his lips like a feather light touch against mine as I whispered: "It felt like my life was over. I felt like dying. Every single second ever since."

A massive weight fell off my chest, now that I had said it, and suddenly I could breath again. A certain ease settled over me and the hope in me flared up brightly, no matter how achingly clear it was that we still had a lot to talk about and a long way until we would be back at normal. It was okay. It was more than I could ever have hoped for.

"You still feeling like dying, Ran?"

My breath hitched at his use of my pet name, the tiny word flooding me with a golden warmth.

"No, not anymore," I replied. "Because you're here, Johnny."

The caress on the back of my neck stopped and his fingers curled around it, tugging me even closer and for a heartbeat I thought he would kiss me. I hoped it. Prayed. But then he drew away from me and I didn't blame him for it, as much as I longed for his kiss. A few hours ago our worlds had been nothing more than the shattered image of a fairytale, so taking this slow was okay.

"Good, because I don't feel like dying anymore, too," he whispered as he met my gaze, the blue orbs deep and… peaceful. "We have all the time in the world to talk about everything. Tomorrow. It's late, we should go to bed, babe."

The babe caused another tingle to run along my spine. Wistfully I stood up, coming to stand on shaky legs.

"Want me to sleep in the guest-room?" I asked hesitantly, because I didn't want to crowd him. As he looked at me a bit indecisive, I added quickly: "It's okay, really. I could understand if you need time to…"

"No," he cut me off. "No, I don't want you to sleep in the guest-room."

Holding a hand out to me, he graced me with an almost shy and incredibly cute smile, tugging me closer as I took his hand. With every step I took on our way to… our… bedroom, I felt more and more like being home again while at the same time it felt somehow new, all this. A wonderful feeling.

Not even a minute later I settled down on my side of the bed, feeling the mattress bounce a little as John crawled in beside me, tugging and fussing until we were both neatly tucked in. His soft breathing was the only sound in the quietness which fell over the room and it was a beautiful sound. I loved it, always had. It made me feel safe, had guided me into sleep uncoutable times and this very moment it hit me how much I had missed hearing it. And although he was only lying beside me without any kind of contact… I felt him again.

It wouldn't have been surprising if sharing the bed now would have been an awkward situation, but it wasn't. It was rather an expectant one, even if only from my side. Or so I thought. I turned my head a bit towards him, letting my eyes roam his face and found his eyes open, directed at the ceiling as if he was pondering on something. His jaw muscles jumped.

"Sure you don't want me to sleep in the guest-room?" I asked again, hoping he wouldn't say yes.

He met my gaze then, his eyes roaming my face just like mine had roamed his and in the semi-darkness I saw a certain determination grow on his face. Apparently he had made a decision.

I lay very still as he moved, bracing on his elbow while leaning closer to me. His eyes never left mine, the bright blue orbs pale now but deep, and breathing my name, he lifted his other hand up to my face, letting his fingertips trail over my lips. My heart stumbled hard and I tried to remember how to breathe as I could do nothing but look at him. Waiting. Hoping. His fingers brushed over to the side of my face, a caress so loving that it caused a sweet ache deep within me. And then he kissed me.

Bliss.

My lips were remembering his, opening up for him… allowing a tiny sob to escape, but it got lost as John sealed his lips firmly over mine. My arm came up to wrap around his back to pull him in, because I wanted to feel more. In response his fingers curled around my neck, holding me in place as he deepened the kiss… slow, sweet and loving. It was spine-tingling and breathtaking, a kiss to get lost in. A golden warm something curled up in my belly, warmed me, gave me life. There was a moan… maybe from me, maybe from him… did it matter? The warmth spread, causing my body to hum. His skin on mine. I breathed John's scent, tasted him on my lips.

And much too soon the kiss ended, leaving me craving for more. But this… it had been a start. And a small piece of perfection.

John's eyes were sparkling as he looked down on me, before he leaned in again to place a sweet little kiss on my forehead. I wanted to say something, but I couldn't speak. And maybe there was no need to say anything. John knew. He always did.

He pulled me with him as he turned around again to lie on his back and I did was I had always done, pressing against him from head to toe, nuzzling my face against his broad chest, resting an arm across his waist while I felt a strong arm hold me close.

The low rumble of his voice vibrated through me as he said softly: "I love you, Ran."

Not long ago I had been sure I would never hear those words again. My mind wrapped around them and held them close to my heart.

"And I love you, Johnny…" I replied, pressing even closer to him.

The room fell quiet again, bringing an ease along that settled over us and with it came the deepest of exhaustion. Within seconds I felt afloat in John's breathing, the soft rising and falling of his chest and the faint sound of his heart, a slow and steady beating that lulled me in. For a brief moment my mind wandered to the ring, now safely sitting in its little black box on the bedside table and there was something I wanted John to know...

"Want you to know… would have said yes, Johnny…" I breathed as sleep pulled me down into peaceful blackness and the last thing I knew was a kiss breathed ot the top of my head and his arms, holding me safe…

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