"I'm here, Joss."
John had whispered those words to her, and for the rest of the night he had been.
He'd stayed and held her hand while they both took turns drifting in and out of sleep. He didn't leave until the hospital staff insisted he did.
But he returned, and wiped at her tears, held her hand, even planted a kiss to her temple. She swore she felt the softness of his lips touch her brow one night before she fell asleep.
He allowed himself to be vulnerable around her. The look in his eyes conveyed deep feelings, emotional ties, and a different side of him she'd never known. She'd come to need his visits, the sound of his voice, his hand squeezing hers tight. It made the hospital stay a little more bearable.
But a few short weeks later he'd disappeared and taken the affection he'd offered so freely with him.
Now there was no sound of his voice to calm her and she missed the touch of his fingers twined with hers.
His presence had done a lot to make her feel safe while she was in the hospital. Suddenly she developed this irrational fear that the men who shot her would return to finish the job. She did what she could around the house, still tried to help Taylor with his homework. She even managed to cook dinner once a week, but after he went to bed, she'd go in her room and wonder about John.
What was doing?
How was he doing?
Did he miss the simple things that had started to mean so much?
Did he miss being there when she woke at night?
Did he miss her as much as she missed him?
Her mind was filled with a million questions, but she knew the answer.
It was regret. He regretted the moments, the touches, the soft whispers.
He regretted being there, he regretted the fear he showed, he regretted the worry he felt. He regretted and hated that he showed how much he cared.
So now he would stay away and she'd have to get used to being nothing more than an asset again.
She'd heal, she'd get better and soon time would make her forget he ever showed how vulnerable he felt at almost losing her. And she'd forget her need for him.
"I'm here, Joss." The simple declaration spoke volumes before. Now the words seemed hollow.
"No, John. You're not." She whispered to herself and shut the lamp off next to the bed. She settled into her pillow and tried to go to sleep.
She'd pretend there was a guard standing at her bed. He would watch over her, protect her, and keep her safe. A force to ward off the ghosts that tried to haunt her while she slept.