Author Note: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! I am so glad you guys enjoyed the last chapter!
In this particular installment, we start out a little bit differently, and again we've done a bit of a time jump. I hope you enjoy it.
Please R&R! Thank you!
It had been nearly a year and a half to the day since Trudy Sheppard found the man in the ditch. She had been driving to work, just as she was on this day, and had seen him, lying on his back, barely conscious, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He had been dressed strangely, looking as though he had just come from a renaissance fair, and was obviously injured. Panicked, she had called the police, clambering down into the ditch to assist the poor young man. That was the first time she ever laid eyes on the man who would become something of a son to her.
Over the next month, she barely left the hospital. The poor boy had suffered from a case of serious amnesia, remembering nothing of his past, not even his name. Try as they might, the doctors never recovered any of his memory. However, this mattered not to Trudy, she had taken a liking to the boy and found his company very enjoyable. Though he had no memory of his past, he was obviously intelligent. Once he was released from the hospital, she had taken him into her home, shared books with him, introduced him to fine art, nurtured his artistic eye, and eventually helped him get his first few pieces sold before moving him to Chicago.
She missed John something awful. They talked often on the phone, but it had been almost a year since she had seen him off to Chicago and he had yet to return. Often she asked him to, but he always had a reason to stay in his new home. Lately, it had been a named Alice. It was obvious he cared very deeply for her, which made Trudy automatically fond of her. A few times it had been suggested that the two of them should take a vacation to New Mexico to visit. However, that had yet to happen.
Nostalgia had her heart aching as she passed the infamous ditch. The sky was beginning to look a bit stormy, the clouds having turned an awful black color. A bit of thunder rolled overhead and a brief flash of lightning lit the sky. And then suddenly the clouds started doing something very odd. It looked as though they were glowing, pulsing an odd golden color and beginning to swirl together.
Mystified, Trudy slowed the car, staring in awe up at the cyclone that was beginning to form. Again, lightning cracked, this time seeming to revolve around the large cyclone. The tornado became an almost solid tunnel of light, shooting straight at the ground.
Pain shot through Trudy's chest as her heart began to race. Though she knew she should try to drive away from the light, her shaking hands and racing heart kept her from moving. It dawned on her suddenly that this is what a heart attack was meant to feel like.
Desperately, she fumbled for her phone, the pain becoming more severe with each movement. Her vision began to blur, hands shaking too severely for her to even call an ambulance.
Suddenly, there was a figure outside her window. Though she couldn't make it out clearly, it appeared to be a blonde haired man. He gazed in the window for a moment, something red billowing behind him as he stood. Was that a cape?
"Mortal woman!" he shouted, wrenching the door open. "Are you alright? I did not mean to startle you!"
Shaking her head, Trudy attempted to tell him what was happening. However, her voice seemed to catch in her throat, speech seeming to be something she was incapable of.
"Hospital," she hoarsely whispered.
"You need a hospital?" he repeated in his booming voice. "I shall escort you to one immediately!"
Strong arms lifted her out of the car and she was pressed against something that felt like metal. Closing her eyes, Trudy faded into unconsciousness.
Alice awoke to Frank Sinatra playing down the hall. According to the clock, it was nearly noon and the sun was beating in the window over John's bed, giving the chilly autumn day false warmth. A blind grope over at the other side of the bed told her that John was already awake. No surprise, really, as he tended to be an early riser.
Over the past few months, she had really taken to staying at his apartment. Though she had been hesitant at first, Heather had volunteered to start opening the shop every other day. On nights Alice didn't have to be at the shop early she stayed with John, and on nights that she did have to be up early, he usually stayed at her place.
Though they had only been together six months, Alice felt as if it had been an eternity. Every moment spent with John was bliss. Never before had she even dreamed of finding a man with whom she could see herself spending the rest of her life. She was fiercely independent and not too fond of commitment. However, John was beginning to seem like the exception to her rule.
Yawning, she stretched, the cool air chilling her naked flesh. As she slid out of bed, she picked up one of John's shirts from the floor. It was his favorite blue button up, which he wore almost every time they went out to dinner. She didn't pretend to understand why he loved it so much, but it looked fantastic on him, so she didn't complain.
Pulling on the shirt, she did up a few buttons and began to wander down the hall. From the art room, she could hear him singing along with the record. He had a fantastic voice, especially when singing Sinatra; it was one of her favorite things about watching him paint, he always sang when he was painting. Actually, he sang all the time. It was part of his charm.
Smirking, she leaned on the doorframe, listening to him sing the last few lines of "Come Fly With Me." His eyes were fixated on the canvas before him, his hand leading the brush in small, quick strokes. As he hit the last note, he threw the brush into the cup of water beside him, leaning back on his stool with arms outstretched and head thrown back, as if he had just finished some grand musical number.
Giggling, she applauded and took a few steps into the room. Surprised, he sat up straight, sending her a playful glare.
"That was fantastic!" she grinned, coming around behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
"You enjoyed that little performance, did you?" he chuckled. "I thought you were asleep."
"I wouldn't miss you singing Sinatra for the world."
His attempts to look cross with her failed and he settled on a good morning kiss instead.
"So, what are you working on today?" she asked, resting her chin on his shoulder.
The canvas before them looked to be mostly done. It depicted an icy wasteland, covered in snow and mountains, which looked to be made entirely of ice. A castle seemed to be the main focus of the piece, though it took her a moment to realize it was a castle at all. It was more of a collection of giant ice pillars that attempted to form a wall.
"More dreams, I take it," she surmised, knowing she was correct.
John was one of the most fitful sleepers she had ever encountered. Some nights he slept in a tight ball, fists clenched, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to collapse in on himself. Other nights he would thrash about, often crying out, spewing curses and threats at unknown enemies. Only once had he ever said her name in his sleep, followed swiftly by the phrase, "You will bend to me, my queen." The phrase had given her pause, made her desperate to know what he was dreaming about. Despite her curiosity, she hadn't asked him about it in the morning. Sometimes it was just better not to know.
"Yeah," he nodded, admiring his own work. "It's a world made entirely of ice. And there are these…monsters that live there."
For a moment it looked as if he were trying to remember something, but he shook his head and looked back at the painting.
"It's sad looking," she commented, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
"Ice planets aren't exactly happy, darling," he shrugged. "They're meant to be cold, unwelcoming."
"Well, you definitely got that across."
"Good."
The song changed and in one swift movement, he stood, taking her right hand in his and placing his other hand on her hip.
"This is my favorite song on the album," he declared suddenly, beginning to sway her to the first notes of The Way You Look Tonight. "You're going to dance with me."
There was no room for argument in his tone, but she tried to step back regardless.
"No, no, no," he insisted, pulling her to him firmly. "We're dancing."
"You know I don't dance, John," she groaned, feeling suddenly awkward on her feet, especially because of his sudden change in mood.
Attempting to get her to dance was one of his favorite games. He would turn on dance music at all hours of and attempt to take her off guard in hopes of convincing her to dance with him. It rarely worked. On a few lucky occasions, he had taught her the basics of ballroom dancing, waltz, and even managed to get her drunk and bring her to a club once. However, swing dancing was still not in her skill set, but he seemed determined to teach her.
"Alice," he said warningly when she again tried to back away.
With an exaggerated sigh, she gave in, allowing him to lead her around the small space. It bothered her that he was such a fantastic dancer, he had an inner rhythm that she could not even fathom. And try as she may to convince him that she lacked this rhythm, he was persistent in his attempts to help her find it.
"Alright," he grinned once he had her swaying to the beat. "Do you remember how to do the box step I taught you?"
"Vaguely," she muttered, trying to concentrate on not tripping.
"Alright then, this is very much like that. I'm going to step forward, and you're going to step back…right, just like that. Stop trying to lead, darling, that's my job. Just trust me. Okay…again."
To her delight and horror, she was beginning to get the hang of it. She was grateful that the small space of the art room kept him from trying anything too difficult, but she was somewhat enjoying being swayed about like this.
Once he seemed confident that she had the steps down, he stopped instructing her and began to hum along with the song. It made her giggle, especially when he began singing, his voice low in her ear.
Together they began to turn, lost in the song and each other; John's voice hypnotizing Alice.
When the song began to quiet, it felt like it was over too soon. The last notes faded, John's eyes boring into hers as he sang the quiet ending.
Tenderly, he leaned down and kissed her, cradling her face in his hands.
"See?" he smirked. "That wasn't so hard."
"I suppose it wasn't," she conceded.
Again, she kissed him, a bit more fiercely this time. In his usual fashion, he responded instantly, tongue flicking out to trace her lower lip before nipping at it playfully.
"Someone's feeling frisky this morning," she teased.
"I'm sorry, darling," he grinned. "I just can't stand to be pressed against you for so long without wanting to let my hands wander."
Giggles filled the room as his mouth attacked her neck, his hands working at the buttons of the shirt she had stolen from him.
"This looks good on you, by the way," he commented offhandedly. "Very sexy. It will look even better on the floor."
And with that, he pushed it off her shoulders, one hand sliding back up her stomach to give her breast a light squeeze.
The sound of his phone ringing gave him pause. He sighed, letting his arm drop and ignoring the annoyed sound she made.
"I'm sorry," he groaned. "But I have to get this. I'm expecting a call from a guy at the contemporary arts museum."
Reluctantly, she let him take the call. He glanced at the caller ID and looked a bit confused, but took the call regardless.
"Hello?" he answered.
As the person on the other end spoke, his face grew increasingly grim.
"Is she okay?" he asked urgently.
Again he was silent, seeming increasingly panicked as the person on the other line spoke.
"Tell her I'll be there in the morning," he insisted. "Thank you so much for calling."
Ending the call, he hung his head, looking completely forlorn.
"Are you okay?" Alice inquired quietly, placing a light hand on his shoulder. "What happened?"
"It's Trudy," he replied, voice barely more than a whisper. "She had a heart attack. I… I have to go to New Mexico."
Alice's heart sank, both for John's beloved old friend and because the prospect of being without him was a bit unnerving.
"That's terrible," she said sympathetically. "Is there anything I can do? Do you want me to watch the place while you're gone?"
His brow knitted as he considered this.
"Why don't you come with me?" he proposed, taking her off guard for the second time that morning. "I'm sure Trudy would love to meet you."
"I can't just leave the shop," she hesitantly pointed out.
"Heather can take care of it," he insisted. "I'm sure she would be more than happy to help."
Though Alice wasn't too fond of this idea, she felt John needed all the support she could offer. If that meant going to New Mexico, then so be it.
"I'll see what I can do."
It took little effort to get Heather to cover for her, especially with the promise of extra pay. After a bit of schedule shifting, Alice had managed to get two week's worth of time off. She and John were on the road early enough to beat rush hour, as they began the long drive to New Mexico. Though the cause for the road trip was less than ideal, Alice found it relaxing. Mary-Ann's engine purred as they sped down the highway, the radio blaring punk rock music.
"So how long are we driving tonight?" she asked, glancing over at John, who looked rather beside himself with worry.
Since finding out about Trudy's condition, he had been rather distracted. She couldn't blame him, really. Were her father in the same state, she knew she would be driving countless hours to be by his side as well.
"I don't know," he shrugged. "I just want to be there by morning."
"Sweetheart," she tenderly explained. "This drive is going to take a good day and a half. We can drive straight through, but we're going to have to take turns. I don't think I can drive the whole way through."
"We can stop at a hotel when you get tired," he insisted, seeming to return to himself for a moment. "I can call Trudy whenever. They said she's stable, but they don't want to let her out of the hospital yet."
"Are you sure?"
"Darling, I'm just glad you're with me for this. I'm sorry if I'm a bit tense. I'm just worried."
He placed a light peck on her cheek, wrapping a reassuring arm around her shoulders.
"Thank you for coming, love," he smiled. "It means more than you can begin to understand."
And yet, when she looked into his eyes and saw the raw emotion and sincerity, she felt she had a pretty good idea.
"I'm glad to be with you," she honestly replied. "It's our first road trip together."
"Exciting, isn't it?"
"I wish the circumstances were different, but it really is. Maybe we could camp in the desert if Trudy is feeling better?"
"We'll see, love. I don't want to keep you from work too long."
"Apparently Heather's got it covered. I'm all yours for two weeks."
Chuckling, he nodded and turned the radio up.