Chapter 45 – Midway
They settle in their quarters at Midway Station after having a quick lunch with the rest of the staff on board. Dr Lee is training Kavanagh to replace him. Of all the bad luck they've had recently, this is the last straw. John offers to take her for a ride on the jumper. They spend a few hours outside, not wanting to return to the cramped spaces of the station, and take it all in – the beauty of the place she'd never have dreamed anyone – lest alone herself – could ever witness.
She notices he's more relaxed than he's been in days as he is flying the jumper around so she can see both galaxies. He smiles and tells her she's got stars in her eyes – a rare quality that is often lost when one grows older and becomes immune to the wonders of the world. "I guess I've never ceased to be a child, deep inside," she replies. "And I know you haven't either," she adds, handing him a lollipop with a wink.
They relunctantly head back to the station. It's evening – Pegasus time – so they head to their rooms after grabbing a sandwish and apple and sit on the bottom bed to watch a couple of movies on his computer. She protests when he chooses the second movie. Alien, of all things! On an intergalactic base of all places, to top it all! She rolls her eyes but relents when he uses his puppy look. She spends most of her time hiding from the screen, her head buried in his shoulder and her hands on her ears to muffle the screams from the massacred crew. He chuckles each time she cringes. It's not really fair but he needed to unwind and horror movies are very cathartic, notwithstanding the added bonus of having her where he wants – in his arms – without having to ask for it.
When the credits roll and he switches off the computer, she sighs with content and glares mockingly at him, pointing her finger at his chest. "You, Mister, are going to pay for it! I'm going to have nightmares for days."
He chuckles and wraps his hand around her finger. "Complain all you want, sweetie. I had to suffer through Pride and Prejudice for you. It was rightful compensation. I almost died of boredom," he says emphatically.
She chuckles. "No, you did not! Besides, why was it on your computer to start with?" she points out, making him squirm, knowing fully well he'd downloaded it so she could watch it again.
He raises his hands in mock surrender. "All right, you win! Now get your butt in the bathroom and get ready for the night," he says pushing her towards the door. "Who knows how long it's going to take you, woman!" She glares at him mockingly and sashays to the door, her pyjamas in hand.
When he returns from the bathroom, having changed into sweats, she's already lying on the bottom bed. He points at the top bed. "You do not really believe I'm going to sleep up there?" he sniggers.
She giggles. "First arrived, first served, John."
He narrows his eyes at her and bends towards her resolutely. "Scoot," he orders, pushing her to the far end of the narrow bed.
She pouts. "You really do not think we're going to sleep in the same bed?"
"Your choice, sweetie. You accept to sleep up there or you sleep with me. Which one will it be?" He waggles his eyebrows playfully. She can't believe he's gone from making amends for coming on to her to offering her to sleep in the same bed.
"John..." she whispers reproachfully.
He rolls his eyes, looking cheeky. "What? Think you'll come on to me if we sleep in the same bed?"
She snorts. "You wish!"
He lifts his eyebrows. "Well, then, scoot along, lady!"
She relents, hoping she will indeed not be tempted. He leans on his side, facing her, his bent arm supporting his head, his mouth barely an inch from hers. She closes her eyes for a brief moment, schooling herself. This is gonna be the longest night of her life!
"Do you want to sleep already?" he asks, after a few minutes. He's playing with her hair. She didn't use to mind but it's quite distracting and she's lost in her thoughts.
"No, I mean, not if you don't want to."
"Do you mind if we talk?" He bites his bottom lip.
She knows he needs to get things off his chest. They've talked a lot last night at the restaurant. At least, he has and she's listened. To stories of his youth, to his first years in college, even his wife – how sorry he feels he'd had to put her through all the secrets he'd had to hide from her because she didn't have clearance. He's told her how he wished he'd found someone who could understand he had to do it without needing to know where he went and what he did. He knows now that it was an illusion. Trust is earned, not granted blindly, and it's only now he understands his marriage was a failure in the making from the very start. She's cringed at his use of the exact words Beckett's mom had said to her but kept the thought for a rainy day, this trip being all about him, not her.
"OK, yes, sure. What do you want to talk about?"
"I don't know... How pretty you looked in that little black dress," he says innocently then smirks, seeing her blush.
"John..." she warns him.
"Not my words!" he says. She pouts. "No, really. Nancy mentioned it in passing when I met her later for intel. She asked who you were."
"And you said?" she prods, feeling uncomfortable.
"I said you were the closest to my heart," he says matter-of-fact. She gives him a warning look. "What else could I say? It's true, as is her mentioning how pretty you are. I know you don't see yourself that way, Louise, and you need to be told more often. You belittle yourself so much sometimes it infuriates me."
She shrugs, embarrassed. "That's who I am. You won't change me, John. Years of being told I was worthless are not easy to forget."
He caresses her cheek and lets his hand trail down her arm to entwine it with hers. "Don't worry," he says, seeing her hesitate. "I know the boundaries. No kissing, no coming on to you. I'm just trying to be tender, not flirty." She lets him have his way because she's not sure she'll ever be able to say no to him should he ever ask for more again. "What happened, Louise?" he insists. "I never asked, until now. I respected your need to protect your past. Never asked to read your file though I know by now, everything is in there – compliments of the IOA." She winces, realizing he knows what happened back there at the SGC. "I'm asking you now and if you don't want to answer, I won't ask again. God knows we're all entitled to our secrets. I just thought you might want someone to carry that burden with you instead of carrying it all on your own."
She's not planned for this to happens so soon though, come to think about it, they've known each other for years now. She gulps. She doesn't know if she's going to be able to do it. Talking to Ma Beckett was one thing. John is close to her heart. She's afraid of what she'll see in his eyes when she tells him the whole truth. But when the words start flooding, there's finally no stopping them.
She tells him everything. The car accident in which she lost her husband and kid in one go. The numbness she felt as she went to the morgue then the funeral home and finally the wake and funeral itself. How she never cried because she felt too stunned to do so. How people deemed her cold-hearted because of it. The shunning from everyone she knew, both relatives and co-workers alike. How she soon ended up finding comfort in alcohol to dim the pain and move through her days.
He knows the rest. The moment she woke up in a hospital bed, having almost slipped into a coma. She fills in the gaps, finally shedding light on why she has so few personal belongings.
"My in-laws challenged the will, taking me to court. That's when I snapped. I had decided to take cooking lessons and quit my job at the school. I couldn't take it anymore to see kids all day when mine was buried six feet under. I never finished cooking school. I upped and went on the spur of the moment, applying for a visa at the Canadian embassy."
He looks befundled. "You mean you have an estate somewhere that you left in the hands of your family and in-laws?"
She shrugs. "It was not worth the fight, John. It would have ended killing me. Even my own mother was very adamant I should have been in that accident. I guess she would have preferred for me to die and then get the pity and attention of her friends than have to explain why I was not in that car."
He rubs her arm affectionately. "Why weren't you?"
She looks up, tears brimming in her eyes. "Because we were on the verge of a divorce, John. For years, I had held on to the thought that he loved me though he'd very soon shown nothing but indifference for me once our son was born. That day, he told me he was going to his parents and I was not welcomed there. Had he loved me, I would have died that day. I guess the universe has a very twisted sense of humor."
He wraps his arms around her on instinct, feeling the rage bubble inside of him for hearing her mention her repeated desire to end her life. "The universe has nothing to do with it, sweetie, and though I'm so sorry for you you lost your child, I'm sure glad it brought you to Atlantis and to me."
She lets herself grieve openly for the very first time and weeps in his arms softly. It scares him to see her so quiet. He rubs soothing circles on her back then massages her spine up and down with his thumb and forefinger. She sighs, her head buried in the crook of his neck. He schools himself not to react when she moans and scoots closer, her body flush to his. He reminds himself of the decision he's made in the car. Knowing the whole truth about her past now, it would definitely not be a good idea to give in to temptation. She falls silent and he realizes she's fallen asleep in his arms – his own personal miracle. He falls asleep hours later, not having dared move.
She wakes up slow, her body warm and numb from a dreamless night. The room is dark but she knows on instinct she's not in her room. She remembers being on Midway Station. The memory of crying herself to sleep in John's arms reaches her slowly. She realizes she must have shifted in her sleep because her back is to him, one of his hands splayed on her stomach. His breath is tickling the nape of her neck. He still seems to be sound asleep. She tries to wriggle her way out, hoping he won't remember falling asleep with her in his arms.
His arm tightens around her. She stills, waiting for him to relax again. "You don't sneak on a trained CO, sweetie," he mumbles, kissing her neck.
She cringes. So much for trying to be discreet. "Hi," she replies.
"Hi yourself," he greets her, giving her one more kiss. Boy, is she in trouble! Apparently, a waking John is a cuddly John.
"John..." she warns him. "We said no kissing."
"Not true. We said no kissing on the lips. You never mentioned the other parts of your body," he counters wickedly, now wide awake. "We've agreed on not being friends with benefits. It doesn't mean we can't have any benefits..."
She can't help giggling. "You're a handful, you know that?"
"Uh, uh," he replies, nosing her neck and shoulder, and chuckles, obviously very pleased with himself.
"What am I gonna do with you?" she insists.
"You're gonna let me love you a little, cuddle you a lot and be your knight in shining armor wherever we go," he replies, wrapping her more tightly in his arms, wishing this morning may never end.
TBC