Hold Tight to the Rose
Author: Mice
Email: just_us_mice@yahoo.com
Category: slash, Jimmy/Byers, angst
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A devastated Jimmy Bond tries to cope with the 
events of Jump the Shark. 
Archive: Basement, Lone Slasher, LGM Fanfic Bunker, Glass 
Onion, all others ask.
Website: Mice's Hole in the Wall -- 
https://www.squidge.org/~surrealarts/mice.html
Spoilers: JTS - I assume you've seen the LGM series and 
know the Gunmen's history
Disclaimers: I don't own them; CC, Fox, Morgan and Wong, 
and 1013 do. Sure as hell wish I did though. They'd get the 
happy endings they deserve.
Author's note: Every GunFic writer I know seems to have 
been driven to do a post-JTS or a JTS denial story. This is 
mine. Incredible thanks to my betas. You know who you are. 
Thanks to RaeC, for whose zine this was originally written. 
She didn't get enough material to publish, so she gave me 
leave to share it with you fine folks.

***
Hold tight to the stem of the rose you've been given.
Learn what such a friend is worth.
Write that in the margin and memorize it.

Hafiz
***

APRIL 21, 2002
LONE GUNMEN HQ
TAKOMA PARK, MARYLAND

John died today.

I was there when the fire doors fell, trapping him and the 
guys in the hallway with the man carrying the virus. It was 
the worst moment of my life.

John Byers was my hero, my best friend, my mentor. My 
lover.

I'd been away from him for the last year, following the men 
who'd kidnapped Yves, and then tracking Yves herself when 
she escaped from them. John, Frohike and Langly had tried 
to talk me out of going, saying that we could find Yves 
without risking everything, by following up leads online or 
through our contacts.

I should have listened. If I'd stayed, they might still be 
alive right now. John might be in my arms, making love with 
me.

When I left, I was a really naive kid. I'd believe anything 
anybody told me. I was a pretty simple guy, really. People 
thought I was stupid. Yeah, I still have trouble with the 
big words, but in my year on the road following Yves, I 
grew up more than I ever knew I could; got smarter and 
faster and tougher, and learned not to trust just anyone 
anymore. I came home to the guys a wreck, but just seeing 
John when I came through the secret door to the HQ was 
enough to bring back my hope that things might turn out 
okay at the end. When John was here, it was always okay at 
the end.

Chasing John Gillnitz, the virus-carrier, brought my lover 
and my friends to their deaths. In the end, they were the 
heroes I've always known them to be, unquestioningly 
sacrificing their lives to save thousands of others. But I 
would have sacrificed anything to get them out of there. 
I'm not the hero John was. I tried to open the fire door to 
get to them -- to get to him -- but he stopped me, and so 
did Yves. I didn't care if I died with him, and thousands 
of others with us, if I could have been with him, holding 
him when the end came.

He looked me in the eyes through the wire reinforced 
window, a terrible sadness on his face. We both knew. When 
I put my hand to the glass, he held his up to it, trying to 
touch mine, and Frohike and Langly's hands joined his. He 
told me never to give up. I whispered that I loved him, and 
then the tears came.

Yves and I stood there, looking in, holding each other and 
crying as the guys sat against the wall and just waited, 
dying as we watched. We were rushed out of the area when 
Agents Doggett and Reyes came storming in only a couple 
minutes later with a full CDC biohaz crew. We weren't 
allowed to stay. Everyone said the risk of exposure and 
consanitation had to be minimized.

Exposure. Consanitation.

I feel like my heart's consanitated.

The HQ is so empty without them. They'd sold everything, 
given their last dime to searching for Yves. They'd never 
even learned her real name until I told them. That 
surprised me. They were such brilliant guys. They always 
knew how to find anything. It hurts to see this place, once 
filled with cabinets and racks and equipment, filled with 
all the things in their lives, stripped to the wiring. 
There's so little of them here now. It's like even their 
spirits are gone, and I can't stop myself from going 
upstairs to the room that John and I shared before I left 
to look for Yves.

I should never have left. Or I should have died with him. I 
shouldn't have been left alone to mourn them all. The pain 
and the grief are too big.

John's room is clean and neat, the way he always kept it. 
Only a couple of suits are left in his closet. He must have 
sold them, too. His dresser isn't even here now. Most of 
his clothes are in a cheap little foot locker by the side 
of his bed. I open it, for no real reason. I just need to 
see his things, to touch things that have touched his body, 
as I couldn't when the doors came down.

Under a white t-shirt, I find a picture of the two of us. 
Our arms are around each other, and he's smiling, and he's 
so beautiful that I just can't hold it in any longer. I 
sink to the floor with the photo in my hand and cry. My 
body aches for him as much as my heart does. All I want 
right now is to die so I don't have to feel this alone. I 
don't want to go on, knowing I'll never touch him again, 
never hear his voice, never taste his kiss or roll over in 
the night and find him beside me. I pull the pillow from 
his bed and hold it like I'd hold him if he were here right 
now. I bury my face in it, letting the scent of him that I 
find there offer the memories it holds.

I remember the first time we ever shared this bed, a few 
months after I'd moved in with the guys. 

We'd discovered our feelings for each other late one night, 
when nightmares woke him up and I was still awake watching 
sports on the satellite channels. He talked to me about 
Susanne Modeski, and a Baltimore warehouse where a 
mysterious man held a gun to his head and pulled the 
trigger. He was shaking so hard when he talked. I cared so 
much for him that I had to reach out and give him a hug. 
Usually he'd pull away if I did that, but that night he 
just let me hold him, and leaned into me for comfort. It 
felt so good to hold him, just to be near him. I'd wanted 
to hold him like that so much, but never could before that 
night.

As he calmed down, he put his arms around me, and I thought 
I was in heaven. He didn't move away when I rubbed his back 
or even when I nuzzled his hair. I didn't expect it when he 
held me tighter. I tried to be a little sneaky and just 
kiss him real light in his short, dark hair, but he 
noticed. I was afraid that he'd get mad at me, or get up 
and walk away, but he thanked me, then he touched a little 
kiss to my neck and I was gone. His beard tickled a little, 
but it felt so good. We looked in each other's eyes, and 
I'll never forget the look on his face. There was hope, and 
fear, and more love than I could imagine. I felt like we 
looked into each other's eyes forever, but then we kissed, 
and all the feelings we'd been hiding from each other were 
right there, like attic electricity between us.

I'd joined the guys because they believed in lost causes, 
just like me, but John was always special. He was the 
truest believer I'd ever met. His courage and the way he 
cared about other people always amazed me. The longer I 
stayed with them, the more I fell in love with him. I was 
afraid to show it because John always acted so straight. It 
was wonderful when he took me by the hand and led me to his 
room.

John was shy and didn't have much experience, but I wanted 
him so much, and he wanted me, too. Most of the guys I'd 
been with before were built like me; big and athletic. 
Other football players, usually. John was small and 
slender, with a smooth chest and a wiry strength in him. He 
was always well-dressed, his dark hair and beard just so, 
and he even managed to look good when he first got up in 
the morning, in a bathrobe, pajamas, and mussed hair. His 
eyes were pale, clear blue, like the sky over Malta. He had 
the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen.

I'd never seen him naked before. He turned me on more than 
anyone I'd ever known. Everything about him made my knees 
weak, from the hot, musky smell of his skin, to the scratch 
of his rough thighs along mine. His cock was hot and hard 
in my hand, and felt so good rubbing against mine. We 
kissed and caressed and crawled into his bed. I loved how 
his body felt against me as we held each other, touching 
each other everywhere. He always had good hands, strong and 
sure.

When we couldn't stand it any more, I spread my legs for 
him, and let him slide inside me. The way he filled me left 
me breathless, moaning his name. His beard on my cheek and 
neck was soft and scratchy and made me so hot for him. He 
was as careful with his lovemaking as he was with 
everything in his life, and though he told me he hadn't 
been with many men before, he knew what he was doing. I 
wanted to be his, heart, body, and soul. Just having him 
deep inside me like that with his arms around me and his 
mouth on mine was good enough to make me come. And he got a 
lot more practice after that, too. That made both of us 
happy.

I just want to die.

I'm sitting with his pillow crushed in my arms, still 
crying, when I hear Yves' voice from the doorway.

"Remember, Jimmy, he told you never to give up." She puts a 
hand on my shoulder, but I can't look up. I can't do 
anything but feel how much it hurts to lose him; to lose 
all three of them.

Her touch just makes me cry more, but I nod because she's 
right: I can't deny John Byers, the man I loved so much, 
his dying wish. I don't know how I'm going to do it, but 
I'll pick up where he and the guys left off. I'll put the 
paper back together. I'll find people to help me run it. 
Somehow, I'll carry on, and make my work an offering to 
him, and to Langly and Frohike. Maybe some day I'll be half 
the man John was.

THREE MONTHS LATER
NEWARK, NEW JERSEY
11:21 PM

It's late when the office phone rings, but I pick it up. 
The office isn't much, but it's a start, and Yves has been 
here when she can to help. Kimmy actually signed on to hack 
for us. He said that a moron like me couldn't possibly do 
the job himself, but he was always like that with the guys 
too, so I knew he didn't mean it and just told him he'd be 
welcome. He can be really annoying, but he knows his stuff 
better than anyone alive.

"Lone Gunman Newspaper Group, Jimmy speaking."

"I have some information you need." The voice is 
electronically distorted. I wave to Kimmy to trace the 
call.

"What kind of information?" I ask. I want to keep whoever 
it is on the line to see if we can find out where he is.

"About a friend. Meet me tonight at midnight on the docks. 
Building 1013. Please, Jimmy, come alone."

There's a click as the line goes dead. I look over at 
Kimmy.

"Nothing, man. Whoever it was got off the line too fast. 
What did they want, anyway? "

"I'm not sure. They said they had information I would want 
about a friend, wanted me to come alone. It felt kinda 
weird, but I think I should do that tonight."

"Right, genius. And get your ass handed to you like you did 
last week?" He snorts. I did get my butt kicked last week, 
but it was only because there were three of them, and they 
knew I was coming. If they'd been surprised, I wouldn't 
have had much trouble. " You want me to get Yves? She'll go 
with you if you want. It's not like you'd notice if half a 
dozen guys leaped out at you with machetes. "

Taking Yves would probably be the smartest thing to do, but 
I'm way better able to handle myself in a fight these days, 
after she trained me in all her marital arts stuff. Kimmy 
just worries too much. There was something about the call 
that felt... different. I couldn't put my finger on it. 
Whoever it was sounded nervous but sincere, if that can 
come through the distortion. I mean, a guy who wants to 
kick your ass for something doesn't usually say 'please.' 
The thing is, I have no idea which friend this person could 
be talking about. I have a lot of them, but nobody that I 
need any information on. Nobody's in trouble right now. 
None of them have mysteries in their pasts that Kimmy and 
Yves haven't been able to solve.

"I don't know, Kimmy. This is weird, but I don't have a bad 
feeling about it." I don't have much time if I want to get 
down to the docks and find this building 1013 by midnight. 
I'm not sure what I'll need to take, but Yves always 
insists that I wear a wire whenever I can, just in case. 
That would probably be enough to get Kimmy off my case.

"Look, I'm gonna call Yves anyway. You just wait a minute," 
he says, reaching for his phone.

I shake my head and start pulling the wire equipment from 
its box on the shelf. "Nah. Just help me with this, then 
you can listen in and only call her if we need her. She had 
a real long week and needs to get some rest tonight. I 
don't want to call her in if we don't have to."

He looks like he thinks it's not enough -- he never thinks 
what I do is enough unless I take Yves with me -- but helps 
me anyway. It only takes a few minutes, and then I put on 
my jacket and head out the door.

ON THE DOCKS
BUILDING 1013
MIDNIGHT

It's deserted here. There are freight containers and crates 
stacked everywhere, and building 1013 is a little shack, 
probably an office. The door's unlocked when I turn the 
knob.

I talk as quietly as I can and still let Kimmy hear me. 
"Gigabyte, it's Bit. It's a real tiny office. Probably not 
much place for anybody to hide. I'm going in."

His voice crackles over the link. "Gotcha. I'm on alert."

I push the door open slowly, watching the dark room 
carefully as I enter. There's a little light coming in the 
window, and I see that there's someone sitting at the desk.

"You said you had information for me?" I ask.

The dark figure swivels the chair, and I can make out the 
shape of his face in the dim light.

I can't believe this. There must be something wrong with my 
eyes.

He speaks. "Yes." His voice...

"Kimmy, we don't need the link. I'll see you when I see 
you." I click it off, rip it off my ear, and stuff it in my 
pocket. 

It's only three steps across the room and he's in my arms. 
"Oh my god, John, oh my god. How... why..." My voice breaks 
and I start crying, kneeling there in front of him, holding 
him. 

My head is spinning with all the questions I want to ask 
him, and he holds me tight, saying, "I'm so sorry, Jimmy. I 
never wanted it to be like this. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

I don't let him say any more, covering his mouth with mine, 
kissing him hard and deep like I'm holding my life in my 
hands and only this kiss will save it. He feels too real 
for this to be a dream; his body's too thin and he tastes 
like god's own wine and I love him so much I can't keep it 
all inside. All the memories of him, of the two of us 
together, come flooding back from the place where I'd put 
them so I could keep going. I feel like I'm going to drown, 
like my heart's about to split in half like a big coconut. 
I'm stunned and I'm angry that he didn't tell me and I'm 
too happy to see him to even care. We break our kiss when 
we're both breathless, gasping and crying and holding each 
other so tight I'm afraid I'll hurt him.

When we lean back so we can look at each other, I'm 
shocked. I know the light's bad, but he's so pale now, and 
thin as a sippy straw. He looks like he's spent months in 
bed. He probably has. I can't even find words, so I kiss 
him again, more gently this time, more careful of him, but 
he holds me hard to his body.

"Let's go somewhere and talk," I say.

He nods, then stands and takes my hand, but he's leaning on 
a cane to hold himself up. Even with that, he seems shaky 
and unstable. Still, he leads me to where he's parked. It's 
a silver Saturn, with New York plates. Dime a dozen and 
would be completely anomalous on the road.

"I can't leave my car here," I tell him, even though I want 
to.

"Tell Kimmy where it is and have him come and pick it up."

D'oh. John always was a hell of a lot smarter than me. I 
get on the link and tell Kimmy. He wants to know what's 
going on, but I tell him I'll talk to him when I see him 
again, and not to expect me back, maybe for a long time. 
John nods and smiles. My heart almost breaks when I see him 
smile. I never thought I'd see it again, except in that 
picture I carry with me everywhere.

"You don't look well enough to drive," I tell him. It's 
true. I'm surprised he managed the walk from the building 
to the car. "How did you get here?" I look around, to see 
if someone has been watching over him, but I can't see 
anything.

"I was driven to Newark from where we're staying. I've been 
in town for the past two days, trying to get up the energy 
to arrange our meeting. I drove from a motel less than 15 
minutes from here."

He's starting to wobble, so I steady him against me. He 
leans in and rests a lot of his weight on my body. He's so 
light. He must be nothing but skin and bones now. It scares 
me. He shouldn't even be on his feet. "There's no way 
you're driving tonight. Give me the keys, and you can tell 
me where we're going."

He nods and hands them to me, and we get in the car. I 
start it up and we drive away from the docks. 

"Which way?" I ask. 

"North. We're heading for Vermont." His voice is weak and 
quiet. I'm gonna smack whoever left him here in Newark by 
himself in this condition.

I have so much to say, but I can't yet. All I can do is 
glance at him as the city lights go by. He's still a 
beautiful man, his beard and hair neat and trimmed, though 
when his face is lit by passing lights, I can see that 
there's a lot more grey in them now. His cheekbones stand 
out more, and his clear blue eyes are set deeper, but it's 
because he's so thin. He looks exhausted but happy, and he 
turns to watch me.

After a while, I can't stand not touching him, and slide a 
hand over to rest on his thigh. He smiles again. "I missed 
you so much," he whispers, so quiet I can barely hear him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask. He wouldn't have left me 
like this, not knowing, if there was any way he could have 
contacted me. I know in my heart it's the truth, but I have 
to hear him say it. I need to hear his voice.

John sighs and it's like a shadow moves over him. "Until 
about three weeks ago, I wasn't even able get out of bed. 
And I wasn't allowed anywhere near a phone. Mulder knew if 
I could get to one, I'd call you, and that might endanger 
all of us. He tried to keep me from coming this week. He 
wanted me to wait another month at least, until I was doing 
better, but I insisted."

"You were with Mulder?" I guess I shouldn't be surprised. 
They'd helped him so many times, he'd have to help them, 
have to save them if he could. "Are... are Langly and 
Frohike..."

"Yeah. They're alive too, though Frohike's still not out of 
bed yet. He's older than me and Langly, and it's been 
harder on his body. Langly actually had the quickest 
recovery. He's been up for almost six weeks."

I can't help but let a few tears run down my face as I 
smile. They're all alive. They're really alive. And John is 
sitting here next to me, taking us to a place where we can 
be together again. I don't care what happens now, I'm never 
going to leave him again, never going to be away from him 
for days at a time, never going to be so far away that I 
can't get to him before... 

I don't know what else to say, so I ask John to tell me 
what happened.

"I don't remember much, really," he says. "When the CDC 
finally got there, I was barely conscious. I remember being 
stripped and put into a containment bubble and that's about 
it. I don't know how long it was before I remember anything 
else." He shakes his head and squeezes my hand on his leg. 
"I asked for you, but you weren't there. It... it took a 
long time for me to calm down. Eventually Mulder came to 
get us, in a hazmat suit. I barely recognized him. It's all 
so blurry. I remember a lot of blood, but I don't remember 
anyone being hurt..." He looks like remembering it at all 
just tears him up.

"Why didn't anyone tell us?" I ask. "I... we... someone 
should have told us. We would have come. I would have done 
anything --"

"Mulder said... he said if anyone knew, if word got out 
that we were still alive, Yves' father would try to kill us 
for stopping his plans." John is leaning back into the 
seat, and adjusts it back further, trying to get more 
comfortable. He looks like he's about to collapse, and I 
start watching for the nearest motel. "And I suspect 
factions in the shadow government would also be eager to 
get their hands on us to turn us into lab rats for their 
experiments." I can hear the fear in his voice. I feel him 
shiver. 

The thought of John being no more than a lab rat to some 
scientist almost scares me more than the idea of him dying. 
It chills me all the way inside, like a lump of ice in my 
guts. I can't let that happen, ever. I spot a motel just up 
the road and signal for the lane change. "Do you have a bag 
in the car?" I ask. I assume he does. I came with nothing, 
but as long as I have him, I couldn't care less.

"In the trunk."

It only takes a second to park. "Wait here. I'll get a room 
and come for you."

John just nods and slumps back in his seat.

A few minutes later, I pull his bag from the trunk, then 
open the door for him. "Can you stand by yourself?"

He leans forward and tries, but he's too tired to move. 
I'll carry him if I have to. I don't care. "Just let me 
take your arm," he says, reaching out to me. 

I lean into the car and help him to get to his feet. He 
props himself up against the car as I shut the door, and I 
put my arm around him. We manage the short walk to the 
ground floor room I got, but he's moving real slow, and 
collapses on the bed when we finally get into the room. He 
doesn't even try to lean his cane against the bedside 
table, just lets it drop to the floor as he lies there. I 
have to bite back tears.

Now that I see him in the light, I have a better idea of 
how hard this was on him. There are deep purpley-blue 
circles around his eyes, like big bruises, and his skin is 
so pale it's almost paper white. There are lines on his 
face and around his eyes that weren't there before. I could 
feel how thin he was when I had my arms around him, but to 
see it is a real shock. He's wearing a button down shirt 
and jeans under a light weight duster, and his clothes are 
just hanging on him, like they're way too big. The only 
reason I'm sure he's alive is because his breathing is 
harsh and ragged, like he just finished a long sprint.

I get a glass of water and bring it to him, and by the time 
I get back, his eyes are half open again. It breaks my 
heart to see him like this. I have to help him sit up so he 
can drink. 

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Early this evening." I can barely hear him.

"You need something now."

"I need to rest, Jimmy."

I pull back the covers and plump the pillows up for him, 
then help him lean back and get his legs on the bed so 
he'll be more comfortable. "You can rest, but I'm calling 
room service. Is there anything you want?"

"Something light. Soup. Fruit maybe."

He looks like that's about all he could handle. The last 
thing I want to do is make him sicker by forcing him to eat 
too much, or something too heavy. I call in an order of 
chicken soup for him, and two burgers for me. I'm starved. 
Then I turn my attention back to John.

"Let me help you get ready for bed."

He nods, and I rummage in his bag to find his pajamas, 
laying them on the bed so I won't have to find them while 
he's naked and cold. I pull off his shoes and socks while 
he unbuttons his shirt, then I help him stand so that we 
can get his duster, shirt, and jeans off. Next are his 
undershirt and shorts, and he's leaning on me, shivering on 
this hot July night.

He's so thin I could count his ribs by running my fingers 
down his chest. It's horrible, and I have to bite my lip to 
keep myself from crying again. I've been doing an awful lot 
of that tonight. Once he's got his pajamas on, I help him 
get into bed, then lie next to him, just holding him while 
we wait for our food.

I never hoped, or even dreamed that I could ever have this 
again; lying next to John, holding him in my arms, feeling 
his breath on my neck. He's closed his eyes, too tired to 
hold them open, but I can't shut mine. I don't dare look 
away from him for fear that he'll vanish, that this will be 
some twisted dream sent to make me relive what I've lost. 
He feels so fragile under my hand, like he'd shatter if I 
breathed on him. It feels all wrong to see him this weak 
and tired, when he's so strong and brave inside.

"Talk to me," he whispers, "...want to hear your voice."

I lose it then, and bury my face in his shoulder, crying 
and telling him how much I love him, how I've missed him, 
how awful it's been since he was gone, and how sorry I am 
for leaving him to look for Yves. It all comes out so fast, 
all my fear and love and loneliness; it's like I can't 
stop, like if I stopped, I'd die. I kiss his neck and his 
face and his hair, frantic, never wanting to let go of him, 
and he raises a hand and touches my face. I open my eyes 
and look down to see him looking back up at me, tears in 
his own eyes.

"Don't be sorry," he says. His voice is so quiet. "You did 
the right thing. And you found her."

"And we almost killed you! I thought you *were* dead!"

He smiles that tiny half-smile of his. "But I'm not."

I want him so much, even though I know he's not strong 
enough for anything but rest right now. I just hold him as 
close as I can. I'm so afraid that I'll lose him again. His 
body against mine makes me feel alive again -- everything 
is tingling where we're touching. I don't have to fight 
with myself for long, though, because the food arrives. 

I go get it for us, and bring it back to him on a tray that 
will fit over his lap, so he won't have to get up, then I 
prop him against me so he can sit to eat. He moves slowly, 
sipping the soup a little at a time. After a while, he's 
finished about half of it and then slides back into the 
pillows to rest again. 

"Are you sure you had enough?" I ask. I finished both my 
burgers quite a while ago.

He looks a little better for having eaten, not quite so 
ashy grey but still really tired. "For now," he says. I 
take the tray away, and he asks, "Would you come to bed 
with me?"

"You didn't think I was gonna sleep on the floor, I hope?" 
I say, smiling. He smiles back. It takes a minute for me to 
use the bathroom and toss my clothes off, then I'm sliding 
in next to him. 

We hold each other in the dark, my hand moving slowly over 
his chest through the soft flannel of his pajamas. I've 
missed this, missed him so much. I don't want him to talk 
right now. He's too tired, and I just want to touch him, to 
remind myself what it feels like to be with him, and to 
offer him some comfort. He must ache everywhere.

"Would you like a back rub?" I ask after a few minutes.

He's barely awake, but murmurs, "Mmm, please."

I help him roll over, then slide my hands under his top. I 
need to feel his skin, but I don't want him to get cold. He 
sighs and then just lets go and his entire body relaxes 
under my hands, like he was one of those Thunderbirds 
puppets and his strings got cut. At first I'm a little 
worried, but his breathing is steady, and he mumbles about 
how good it feels.

It feels good to me, too, and I work on his back and 
shoulders as easy as I can while John drifts into sleep. 
Touching him like this hammers home how thin and frail he 
is. I really am going to hurt somebody for letting him take 
a road trip like this when he's still so weak. 

What I'm really afraid of is that the stress of the trip is 
going to make him a lot sicker, and make it harder for him 
to get better. I feel guilty for having him come back to me 
so soon, for wanting to have him tell me sooner. It was all 
just selfishness on my part, wanting him back before he was 
healthy enough to come to me. I'm pissed at myself for 
being angry with him after finding out he was alive, 
knowing he hadn't told me. And he's risked his health to 
find me. How could I be angry with him, knowing that? No 
wonder Mulder didn't want him to come yet.

It's late, though, and I'm barely able to keep my own eyes 
open, so I wrap myself around John and slide as close to 
him as I can. He moans a little in his sleep, and I hope I 
haven't hurt him. I've missed him so badly, had nightmares 
about him dying, cried from loneliness because he wasn't 
with me. Having him back, even like this, is the best 
present I've ever had. It's not long before I fall asleep, 
cherishing the warmth of him in my arms. 

***

MOTEL
NEW YORK STATE

I get up, but let John sleep as long as I can before we 
have to get ready to check out. He wants a shower before he 
gets dressed, so I get in with him, in case he needs me to 
steady him. After last night, I won't take a chance that 
he'll get too tired and fall. I can't believe how good it 
feels to be with him again.

He looks at me, smiling. "I wish I felt better," he says, 
the water running down him like little tiny rivers. The 
drops on his face are like glass beads, and his hair is wet 
and smells so good, and I can't get enough of looking at 
him. I still feel like if I close my eyes, he'll be gone.

"So do I," I tell him. I'm so hot for him, and so hard 
while I'm close to him like this. Every time we touch, my 
cock jumps and throbs. He kisses me and strokes my cock for 
a minute, and it's so good, but there's no sign of response 
in his own body. I'm sure it's only because he's still 
really sick, because the look on his face says he wants me 
as much as I want him.

"I'm sorry, Jimmy," he says, "I just can't..."

I put my arms around him and hold him, letting him stand 
with his back under the hot water. He needs the heat more 
than I do. I'm pressed up against him now, my cock against 
his groin, and it's almost more than I can bear. I feel 
like I can hardly breathe, I want him so much. "It's okay. 
I understand. We can wait until you're better. You 
shouldn't be wasting your strength on it right now, even if 
you could."

"It wouldn't be a waste," he says in my ear, and nibbles on 
it. All that does is drive me crazy with needing him. "And 
I don't want to wait." He turns and leans his back against 
the wall and pulls me to him, sliding his hands down my 
back to cup my ass.

"God, John, you feel so good. But I don't want to get you 
too tired to travel." I rub my body against him because I 
just can't stop myself, and he encourages me, moving his 
hips with mine. 

"I don't care, I'll sleep in the car. I need you. I've 
waited too long for this."

My cock slides along his soft shaft, through his wiry hair, 
and up his stomach as he pulls my face to his for a kiss, 
and I just get harder and need him more. We're both 
breathing hard and he runs his hands over my ass and it 
feels wonderful. No one's touched me like this since the 
last time John did, and I thought no one ever would again.

I run my hands all over him, trying not to worry that he's 
so thin, just letting myself enjoy the sound of him 
breathing, the way he nibbles on my neck and ear as I 
thrust against him, how close I am to coming just rubbing 
against him like this. He's started to get a little bit 
hard against me, and it just makes everything feel better. 
"I wish you could fuck me," I tell him as I start nibbling 
one of his ears. "I want you inside me so bad."

He groans and thrusts against me, and I'm glad it feels 
good for him. I don't know how much more he'll be able to 
handle, though. 

"Want you, Jimmy," he says, "god, I want to be inside you, 
want to make you come."

Just hearing the words is enough to push me over the edge 
after more than a year without him. I jerk and thrust into 
his belly, the soft, scratchy hair around his cock making 
everything so intense that I shout his name, and he runs 
his hands over my body making every little bit of me 
tremble. It's sweet, and he's panting, but he's still 
barely hard. I step a little aside to let the water wash my 
come off him, running my palm over him to help get him 
clean.

He sighs, and looks up at me. He looks pleased but 
frustrated, and I can't blame him. 

"Are you doing okay, John?"

He nods, but slides down to sit on the edge of the tub with 
his back against the wall. "Thanks," he says, and runs his 
hand along my cheek. I feel guilty for feeling so good, 
while he's exhausted and couldn't even get a decent hard 
on.

I kneel in front of him, my hands on his waist, and kiss 
him all soft and gentle. He moans and runs his hands from 
my shoulders down my arms. "I'm not quite done yet," I say.

"There's really nothing else we can do," he says.

"Sure there is," I tell him, and start kissing my way down 
his body. My lips follow the line of beard on his jaw, then 
down his neck to his chest. He leans back with the water 
splashing off me onto him and holds my shoulders with his 
hands. I suck his nipples carefully, and there's pleasure 
in his voice when he moans again.

"Feels so good," he says. "Please, don't stop..."

I'm not going to, believe me. I nibble my way down his ribs 
to his hip, then across his stomach and down to his cock, 
where he's barely hard, but twitching a little between his 
legs. I don't know if I can make him come, but I hope that 
at least I can make him feel good. 

I take him into my mouth, licking and sucking, and he goes, 
"ohhhhhhhhhh." He tries to thrust a little into my mouth, 
but I hold his hips still with my hands. I don't want him 
to make any effort here, I just want us both to enjoy this. 
The water plays across his chest while I suck his cock and 
balls, and even though he isn't getting harder, it's real 
obvious he's enjoying it. His fingers knot in my hair, 
holding my head down on him, and I give him all my love and 
attention. When I look up, his head is leaning back against 
the wall and he's got this blissed out look on his face, 
mouth open, eyes closed, like what's happening is the first 
thing that's felt good in ages.

I stay there sucking him until the water starts to cool. I 
don't want him to get a chill, so I stand and help him up.

"You didn't have to stop," he says, panting.

I smile and shake my head as I dry him off. "Yeah, I did. 
The water was gonna get cold in a few minutes, and we've 
gotta check out, get some breakfast, and get on the road."

John sighs and nods. "You're right."

Breakfast is at the little restaurant in the motel. John 
doesn't order much, but I make sure that he does eat most 
of what he gets, and that he drinks all his milk. My 
appetite is fine, even though I'm really worried about him. 
It's not long before we're on the road again, heading 
north.

He's too tired to talk much while I drive today, just 
giving directions for me when he has to. We stop for lunch, 
but he doesn't eat much there either. In another few hours, 
we're turning off onto a country road, and he has me stop 
and swap the New York plates for Vermont plates when we're 
sure nobody's around to see.

I wish he was feeling well enough to talk to me, but I 
don't want him to get any more tired than he already is. 
When he's awake, I hold his hand, or rest mine in his lap 
unless I need it to drive. I think it helps both of us feel 
better. Sometimes he looks over at me and smiles. I wish I 
could just sit with him and watch him, but I have to pay 
attention to the road. I can see the drive is hard on him, 
and he's been sleeping on and off along the way. Even that 
doesn't seem to be helping much. I think the motion of the 
car is keeping him from really resting, and I'm still gonna 
kick ass on whoever took him to New Jersey and left him 
there alone.

I can't imagine why they'd do that to him, even if he 
insisted. I mean, I have a hard time saying no to John at 
the best of times, but I would never have let him travel 
when he was so sick if there was any other way to do it. If 
nothing else, he should have made Mulder come and get me. 
All it would have taken was for Mulder to tell me John was 
still alive, and I'd have crawled to Vermont on my hands 
and knees to get to him. Well, I mean, driving's way 
faster, but you know what I mean.

I have a lot of questions for Mulder when I get there, too. 
I want to know what really happened, how he got the guys 
away from the CDC if they were consanitated and sick from 
the virus, and how they got better again. I know Mulder got 
kidnapped and probed by aliens, so maybe he's got weird 
alien healing powers now or something. That would be cool. 
Just think of how he could help everyone if he can heal 
people. But if he could heal people, then why would John 
have been in bed most of the last three months, and why 
would he still feel so bad? And why would Frohike still be 
in bed and not able to get up? I don't think Mulder would 
only heal them part way if he could really heal them. I 
know I'd never leave somebody half sick like that, 
especially not the guys.

I ask John about it, but all he says is, "Mulder can 
explain things when we get there. I'm still too tired to 
talk much right now, Jimmy."

A few hours later we pull up in front of a white house off 
a dirt road near Burlington, Vermont. Langly's sitting on 
the porch, and when he sees the car, he stands up and 
waves, then runs to meet us. He's wearing a Ramones shirt, 
just like always, and it makes me smile. I can hear him 
shouting for Mulder as he hurries to the car in the hot 
evening sun. He goes to open the door for John, and looks 
worried when he sees him.

"Oh, man, Byers, I told you this would just set you back." 
He leans in and helps John out of the car, and they hug 
each other while I'm getting out. "I'm real glad you're 
home, though." He's quieter when he says that.

"Yeah, me too," John says, smiling at Langly. 

Langly turns to me, with John still leaning against him. 
"Hey, Jimmy," he says. He grins at me with that lopsided 
grin he's always had. I'm so glad to see him. His light 
blue eyes are tired under his black horn-rimmed glasses, 
and he's thinner than last time I saw him, though not as 
much as John. I don't think he's cut his hair at all since 
I saw him last, and it's down near the middle of his back, 
bleached even blonder than usual by the sun. I go over and 
give him a hug and he doesn't even yell at me about it. 
"Byers hasn't shut up about wanting you here since he was 
strong enough to start talking," he says in my ear.

He looks really good compared to John, but still doesn't 
look his old self. At least he's not wobbling when he 
stands up. The three of us are standing there, holding each 
other when I see Mulder come out of the house, and a pretty 
woman with short blonde hair follows him.

"Susanne," John says, smiling at her as she approaches.

My stomach twists, and suddenly I don't know what to do or 
think. I feel myself tense up as she hurries over to him. I 
know how important Dr. Modeski's always been to him, and 
I'm scared that since she's here, he won't want me anymore. 
I know he loves her. He's never even tried to pretend he 
doesn't. She kisses him when she gets to him, and me and 
John and Langly all step back from each other a little. I 
keep an arm around John in case he needs the support. 

Mulder gets over to us, and says, "Hey Byers, you look like 
shit. Go to bed."

"Thanks, Mulder," John says, "I always knew I could count 
on you for sympathy." Then he smiles up at me and says, 
"Jimmy, this is Susanne Modeski. Susanne, this is Jimmy 
Bond." He slides his arm around my waist and holds me 
closer.

She looks up at me for a minute, sizing me up, then smiles 
a little and says, "I'm glad you came, Jimmy. John's told 
me a lot about you." She gives me a hug, runs a hand 
through his hair, then looks back up at me. "I was terribly 
worried about him when he insisted that I leave him in 
Newark alone to find you. Thank you for bringing him home 
again." She shoots a look over to Mulder.

"I told you I'd be back as soon as I could," John says. He 
sounds frustrated, like maybe he thinks nobody believed 
him. She just kisses him again and looks back at me.

I'm really not sure what to think about Susanne now. She 
seems like she's pretty nice, even though Langly and 
Frohike always talked like she was a bad person. They said 
she made biochimerical warfare drugs for controlling 
people's minds. And she took John to Newark and left him 
there alone, when he shouldn't have left here at all. John 
always just said she didn't have any choice about the 
biochimerical stuff, and that the people she worked for 
made her do those things. I'm going to need to talk to her, 
and think about this a lot.

She looks back at John and sighs. There's a worried frown 
on her face. "I know you promised, but when we didn't hear 
from you, we were all very concerned. And Mulder's right, 
you should be in bed," she tells him. "Has he eaten or 
slept during the trip?" she asks me. She's upset.

"Yeah, I made sure he did."

"I'm fine, Susanne," John says. "I just need some rest and 
I'll be fine."

Susanne shakes her head. "You should have let someone else 
go, or waited another month or so." John doesn't say 
anything back to her. He just looks at me and tightens his 
arm around my waist.

Langly tugs on my sleeve. "I'll get the bags," he says, 
"you get Byers inside and make sure he lies down."

"I'm going, I'm going," John says. He would sound annoyed 
if he didn't sound so tired.

I give Langly the keys. "I will, but there's only John's 
stuff in the car. I didn't have time to pack anything. I 
brought him straight here."

Langly nods, then Susanne puts an arm around John and we 
both help him into the house. He's so tired he's shaking. 
I'm really worried about how pale he is. He looks worse 
than he did last night, when he was so exhausted. I think 
the trip was really bad for him. I get the feeling 
everybody else here feels the same way. By the time we get 
in the front door into the living room, he's stumbling, and 
so I pick him up and carry him.

"Jimmy, I don't --" His voice is weak and he's panting from 
the effort it took to walk this far. I don't care if he 
thinks he can still walk the rest of the way. He's wrong.

"Don't argue with him, John," Susanne says, leading me down 
a hallway and into a small bedroom on the first floor. 
"This is John's room," she says. "I'll leave you here for a 
few minutes until you get him settled, Jimmy." She turns to 
look at John. "Then I want to come in and examine you." 

She looks like she's about to cry, but isn't going to let 
him see it. I can see she's really worried about him. So am 
I. I put John down on the bed, and he moans as he lies 
down. He closes his eyes and doesn't move, except for the 
rise and fall of his chest as he tries to catch his breath. 
He's started sweating, and I don't know if it's from the 
summer heat or from a fever. I start to get him undressed 
for bed.

Langly comes in a minute later, carrying John's bag and 
cane. He leans the cane against the wall near the bed and 
sets the bag down on the dresser, then pulls a pair of 
pajamas out of one of the top drawers.

"Here, dude," he says to John, setting the pajamas next to 
him. "I know how much you bitch about getting cold." John 
doesn't respond, and Langly reaches out and runs a hand 
along his damp forehead, then turns to me. He looks angry 
and sad. "While Susanne's checking him out, come over to 
Frohike's room. He's really looking forward to seeing you." 
Langly points down the hall, then leaves and closes the 
door behind him.

John's barely with me when I help him get his pajamas on. I 
think the travel's made him sick again, and he feels 
feverish to me. As I'm tucking him under the covers, Dr. 
Modeski comes in. "I think he has a fever," I tell her.

She doesn't say anything, but comes over to sit next to 
John on the bed, and puts a hand on his forehead. She 
frowns, then listens to him breathing with her stenoscope, 
and she frowns some more.

"Will he be all right?"

She finally looks up at me, real upset. "He should never 
have left. Not yet. He's probably going to be in bed for at 
least a week because of this." Her eyes are all red and 
puffy, and her lower lip starts trembling. Looking back 
down at him, she takes his hand and holds it up to her 
cheek. She kisses his palm and closes her eyes. I can hear 
her sniffle. He doesn't even stir.

It's my fault that John's so sick and worn out. He'd been 
getting better, and then he had to come and find me, and 
now he's too weak and exhausted to move. I leave before I 
start to cry too. I don't want her to see it. 

I'm angry at her for letting him travel, her being a doctor 
and knowing better. I'm afraid that John won't want me now, 
won't love me since she's here with him. I'm pretty sure 
she had a lot to do with why the guys are still alive, and 
John never forgets when somebody does something for him. I 
can't help but wonder if she's been sleeping here with him 
while he's been recovering. I mean, not like... not like 
having sex or anything, but just being in bed with him, 
holding him close all those nights when I was so alone, 
thinking he was dead, wanting to die because losing him 
hurt so much.

I hear Langly's voice and when I turn to look for him, I 
see an open door. It's Frohike's room, and he's lying in 
bed, grumbling about something. Langly's giving him a 
hassle, as usual. I poke my head in, and they both look up.

"Well," Frohike says, "if it isn't our world traveler." He 
looks older than he did before. Like John, he has more 
lines on his face now, and his hair is grayer. He's thin 
and drawn, and his voice is more gravelly than it was. He's 
lost some more hair on top, and his hands shake when he 
moves them. Langly's the only one who doesn't seem to have 
really aged from being so sick. I'm glad to see them all, 
but I'm so scared for John that it's hard for me to feel 
anything but that.

I smile anyway, because I really am glad to see him. "Hey, 
Frohike." I go over to the bed, and he even lets me hug 
him, which is really unusual. "How are you doing?"

"Better than Byers, from the sounds of it," he says, and 
sighs. "How's he doing?"

"I think he passed out. Dr. Modeski is with him. She's real 
upset. She was crying."

They look at each other. Langly gets up. "I'm gonna have 
some words with her. Stupid bitch should never have let him 
leave. No offense, Jimmy, but this really could have waited 
until he was doing better." He stalks out of the room. 

I get up to follow him, but Frohike grabs my wrist. "Stay 
here for a while," he says. "Langly's not upset with you, 
believe me. We're all pretty pissed at Mata Hari, though. 
She took off with Byers in the middle of the night. None of 
us knew they'd gone until the next morning. We read her the 
riot act when she got back the next day and he wasn't with 
her. He didn't call while he was gone, and we had no idea 
if he was all right, or if he'd been able to contact you."

"John said it took him a couple of days to feel well enough 
to call me and arrange for us to meet." I sit down on the 
bed next to Frohike. It's good to be here with him, to see 
that he really is getting better. Right now, he looks 
healthier than John does. "He's not doing very good, 
Frohike. I'm really worried about him."

Frohike snorts. "Join the club."

I look over at him, wanting to ask him about Susanne, but I 
can't make myself say anything, so I just look down at my 
hands.

"What's bothering you, kid?"

"It's... well... it's Dr. Modeski. I know... he... are 
they..."

Frohike gives a little chuckle. "Like that's a surprise," 
he says. He sighs and pats my shoulder, and I look up at 
him. "I'm not sure what's going on between them, but all 
Byers did was rattle on about you. It drove us up a wall. 
This has been rough on all of us, but I think he's been so 
upset you weren't here that it took him a lot longer to 
recover than it should. He and Langly should have been up 
around the same time, given their age and their health 
before..." 

I nod. I know John loves her, and she seems to love him a 
lot too, even though everyone's mad at her. "I don't know 
what to do."

"Just be here. Seems like he needs you."

"I need him, too," I whisper. 

Frohike nods. "Uh huh."

"I'm scared, Frohike."

"I know."

I look up at him. "What would you do, if you were me?"

He laughs, but it's a short, upset laugh, not a funny one. 
"I wouldn't be you, Jimmy, god forbid."

"Come on. What would you do if this happened to you?"

He closes his eyes for a minute and takes a deep breath, 
then lets it out. "If she hadn't saved our lives, I'd kick 
her ass from here to next year. I'm... grateful to her, but 
I can't bring myself to trust her. Every time she's around 
us, we almost get killed. It gets kinda nervy sometimes, a 
thing like that. And she makes Byers all squirrelly. It's 
like his brain disappears. I don't like what she does to 
him, how she makes him act. It's like somebody else is 
running the show, like it's not really him in there 
anymore."

"Is that how he's been acting?" The idea of John not being 
anything like the man I love worries me a lot. I can't 
imagine him that out of control, but he's always kept a lot 
of himself hidden from other people, even from me. It's 
like he's afraid of himself sometimes, afraid of what he 
might do if he ever just let go. "He seemed pretty normal 
to me since he found me again. I mean, normal for somebody 
who almost died." 

I look down at Frohike's hand on my wrist. The hairs on his 
arm are almost all grey now, not dark like they used to be. 
He's not wearing his fingerless gloves, either. Maybe she 
won't let him or something. His hands look... naked. It's 
kinda creepy.

"How did he act before, with her around?" I ask.

He looks at me for a few minutes. "Mostly insane. When 
she's around he mouths off at guys with guns, forgets 
there's anybody else on the planet but her, and generally 
does stuff that practically guarantees he'll get killed." 
His eyes are haunted. "Scares the crap out of me, Jimmy. I 
swear he has a death wish, and she brings it out."

That's the scariest thing anybody's ever said to me about 
Dr. Modeski. Or about John. 

"Hey," Frohike says, "he's been too sick to do anything 
monumentally stupid this time, except going to get you."

"You said he forgot there was anybody else on the planet 
but her when she's around him."

"Yeah, this is a first, but it was still just short of 
suicidal. Like I said, she brings it out in him."

"Frohike..." I start, but it's hard to continue. I'm afraid 
of the answers.

"What?"

"If he loves her so much, why... why did he come looking 
for me? Wouldn't he... doesn't he really want to be with 
her, not me?" There. I said it. My doubts are drowning me. 
I want to be with him. I'd go anywhere, do anything to be 
with him.

He snorts. "If he didn't want you here, he wouldn't have 
gone to get you, Einstein. God, you can chase Yves all over 
the globe, find out her real name long before we do, and 
you still can't see that?" He shakes his head and sighs. 
"You're a piece of work, Jimmy."

Maybe I am. John hasn't actually said anything to make me 
think he doesn't want me anymore, or that he doesn't love 
me. He acts like he wants me with him. He said he needs me. 
I just don't know what to do with Dr. Modeski here. I don't 
know how to act around her. I don't know how things are 
going to work out between them, or between John and me. I 
always used to be sure of how John felt about me, but now 
I'm not. 

He's never said that he loves me, but it's always been 
there, under the surface. I could see it in his eyes, in 
the way he looked at me, or the way he would touch me. He's 
not the kind of person who would have a lover he didn't 
really love. I've been so shaken by thinking he was dead 
that it's like I'm standing in a huge bowl of wobbly jello. 
The only thing I'm sure of now is that I love him.

I can hear Langly snapping at Dr. Modeski in the hallway, 
then hear him stomp off for somewhere else. "I think I need 
to go for a while, Frohike," I tell him, then get up to ask 
Dr. Modeski if John is going to be okay.

She's crying when I get to her. I'm not sure whether I 
should give her a hug or just leave her alone. "You gonna 
be okay?" I ask.

Susanne sniffles and wipes her eyes with a tissue, then 
looks up at me. "I'll be fine," she says. "Langly's just... 
very angry right now."

"I know. Doesn't seem like it's fair, really."

She shakes her head. "I know I've caused them a lot of 
trouble in the past. I'm sorry for some of what happened, 
but I don't regret meeting them. They've saved my life more 
than once. I've never deliberately done anything to hurt 
any of them. John understands, but Frohike and Ringo still 
don't trust me. Maybe they never will. I don't think they 
understand my situation, my intentions, or how much I love 
John."

"The guys are still pretty sick and stressed out," I tell 
her. "Maybe things'll change when they're feeling better."

"I hope so," she says, but she sounds like she doesn't 
believe it.

"How's John?" I point toward his room. I want to see him 
healthy again, back to his old self, but I know that's not 
gonna happen anytime soon.

She sighs, looking down at the floor. "Not well. He has a 
fever, and he's so exhausted that he may be out of it for 
the next couple of days before he's rested enough to talk 
to us again."

My heart freezes. "That sounds real bad."

"It's not what I hoped for when he got back, but it's 
unsurprising. I... I didn't want to let him go either, but 
Ringo won't hear that. I think if I hadn't taken him, John 
would have found the keys and tried to go alone, and who 
knows where he would be right now if he'd done that."

The thought of John driving by himself in the shape he's 
been in makes me shudder. "You two took off in the middle 
of the night, from what the guys said."

She nods. "We had to. There's no way any of them would have 
let us leave if they knew we were on our way out the door. 
He was adamant about finding you, and I wanted to get it 
over as fast as we could, so that he'd be back here as soon 
as possible, where he's safe and can rest. John is a very 
stubborn man." She frowns and sniffles again. "He won't 
stop if he thinks he's right."

I'm too familiar with that. "Is it okay if I go see him?"

She looks up at me. Her eyes are tired and bloodshot. "He 
won't be awake, but it certainly won't hurt. "

"Thanks." I put my arm around her shoulder and give her a 
gentle squeeze. I don't care what she did before, and 
though taking him to Newark was wrong, she saved the guys' 
lives. She saved John's life. Nothing else matters. We can 
talk about him and other stuff later. Because of her, 
there's time for that. "Thank you for saving them. He... 
they all mean a lot to me."

"And to me," she says softly.

"I know."

She looks up at me and slides her arm around my waist, 
giving me a little hug. "Thank you, Jimmy."

"For what?"

"For not hating me because of my past. For being willing to 
listen. For being patient."

She really isn't as bad a person as Frohike and Langly say. 
She's hurting about all this just like we are. It's hard 
for me to be angry, knowing how tough her life has been. I 
couldn't hate her, even if John decides he'd rather be with 
her. "It's okay, Dr. Modeski. We'll talk more later."

She gives me a little smile. "It's just Susanne, Jimmy."

I nod. "Okay, Susanne."

She walks off to the living room, and I go back into John's 
room. It's mostly dark in there, with the window open for 
some air, and the shades drawn to keep the light out. He's 
lying on his side, curled up. He looks so vulnerable like 
this; it makes my heart get all tight in my chest.

I sit on the bed for a few minutes, just looking at him. 
There's an ivy line stuck into one of his hands, the little 
plastic baggie hanging up near the wall. It makes me 
nervous, but he must need it for something. Even asleep, he 
looks worn and exhausted. It's so different than when we 
were together. When he slept, he used to look peaceful most 
of the time. The sound of his breathing is rough and 
ragged. I need to be with him, but this feels so wrong. He 
should be healthy and his breath should be soft and quiet, 
like it used to be. 

His hair is damp from sweating, and Susanne left a bowl of 
water and a cloth to help cool him down. I reach over for 
the cloth, get it wet and wring it out so it's not all 
drippy, then run it carefully over his skin.

He doesn't move as I touch him with the cool cloth, running 
it over his forehead, along his exposed cheek, then down 
along his neck and part of his chest. I run it soft over 
his lips, thinking about how we used to kiss, and the tip 
of his tongue comes out and touches the coolness of the 
cloth, like a sleepy puppy. I wonder if he needs some 
water, so I set the cloth back in the bowl, then touch a 
dripping finger to his lips, and let the little drops slip 
between them. The tip of his tongue runs along my 
fingertip, hot and almost dry.

There's a cup of water next to the bowl, and since he seems 
to be thirsty, I take the cup and sit him up a little 
against me. He doesn't open his eyes, or even seem to 
notice, but when I hold the cup to his lips, he does take a 
sip or two.

"Do you want more?" I ask, not sure if he can even hear me. 
He doesn't respond or take another sip, so I set the cup 
down and ease him back into the pillows. I don't want to 
leave him alone like this, so I kick off my sneakers and 
lie next to him. He feels too hot when I curl up with him, 
running the tips of my fingers along his arm. I slide them 
down the back of his hand, then twine our fingers together 
and just hold him.

"I love you so much, Johnny," I whisper to him. "Please get 
well. I need you." My eyes sting and get teary. I don't 
think it'll be the last time. I shift and lean over him, 
kissing his cheek, then settle back behind him and hold him 
close for a long time.

***

"Hey, Jimmy."

I startle awake, not recognizing the voice at first, but 
when I look over my shoulder, it's Mulder.

"How's Byers doing?" He's leaning in the doorway with his 
arms crossed, looking concerned.

John's still sweaty but not as hot as he was before, and 
his breathing is quieter. "I think he's doing a little 
better." I reach out and get the cloth again, squeezing the 
water out, then use it to wipe the sweat from John's skin. 
"I think his fever is down some."

"Good." Mulder relaxes a bit. "How are you?"

I put the cloth back in the bowl. "I'm... not sure. I want 
him to be like he was before, not like this."

Mulder nods. He looks me in the eyes. "Susanne doesn't know 
about the two of you, as far as I know. Byers thought it 
might freak her out."

I look down at John. There's still pain and exhaustion in 
the lines of his face. I don't think he would want to upset 
her when he was so sick and not able to deal with how she 
might react, especially if it was bad. "You're probably 
right. She doesn't act like she knows."

"Well, this isn't exactly the best time to tell her. Let 
Byers talk to her first. They're the ones with the 
history."

That sorta makes sense, but I love John so much, she'll 
probably notice that something is different about the way I 
treat him. I'm not going to act like I don't love him. "I'm 
not sure I can hide it from her. I mean, like, when I'm 
with him. Langly says I'm a lousy actor."

Mulder chuckles. "And you believe him?"

"I think he's right." I remember when I was traveling 
through Egypt trying to find Yves. I tried to act local, 
but nobody believed it at all. I think it was falling off 
the camel that tipped everybody off. Camels are a lot 
harder to ride than horses, and way meaner. I got shot at. 
Then the camel bit me. It was pretty scary.

"It's getting near dinner time. You need a break?"

I look down at John and run a hand along his side. "No. I 
want to be here with him."

He nods. "Mind some company?"

"Have a seat."

"Frohike and Langly were arguing about the performance 
speed ratios on T-3 lines again. I can only handle so much 
of that before I want to strangle them." He walks over and 
sits in the chair next to the bed.

"I'm real worried about John."

He nods. "I remember when Scully had cancer." He looks up 
at me and sighs. "I couldn't do a damned thing for her. I 
think that was the worst part."

"Yeah. It's hard to just sit here and wait. But it was 
awful when I thought they were dead. It was like the world 
ended. The guys said that's how it was for you when Agent 
Scully got kidnapped by aliens."

Mulder looks over at the wall. There's nothing there to 
see. "Yeah. It was."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'll be with her again as soon as it's safe." He 
looks back at me again. "You're here with him now. Whatever 
happens, hang on to that. Hang on to him. Don't leave him, 
and don't make the same mistakes I did. I've got a lifetime 
of shit to make up for when I see Scully again; all the 
pain and loss I've caused her. You've never done that to 
him."

"I almost got him killed. Isn't that bad enough?" My guts 
knot, and I remember the look on John's face when the door 
closed between us, locking him and the guys in with 
Gillnitz. I'll never be able to forget that look. I see it 
every night in my nightmares. "How... how did you and 
Susanne save him? How did you get them out of the CDC when 
they were so sick? I mean, I thought they didn't even let 
anybody into places like that."

He smiles a little, but still looks sad. "Susanne arranged 
it," he says, "and if the guys hadn't done something, 
thousands of people, including all three of them, you, and 
Lois Runtz would have died. It wasn't your fault. They did 
what they always do -- what they felt they had to. Do you 
really think you could have stopped them if you'd been 
there?"

I shake my head no. He's right. I could never change the 
guys' minds when they had them made up about something 
important. "So, like, did you just walk in and take the 
guys away in a car or something?"

He laughs. "It was a lot more complicated than that, but we 
managed to pull it off. Susanne called me from the CDC one 
night about a week after they were exposed. She couldn't 
say anything on the phone, but we met and she explained the 
situation. The guys were too out of it to recognize her. If 
they had, it would have been a disaster, and all four of 
them probably would have been killed."

I shudder, moving closer to John on the bed, then run my 
fingers slowly through his hair while Mulder talks. He 
doesn't seem to be any more awake than he was when I first 
came in, but at least he seems a little more comfortable, 
less overheated. Touching him, knowing he's alive and here 
next to me, helps as I listen to Mulder's story.

"We got the guys out late one night, when there weren't 
many people on shift. I got in on a fake ID, though it 
wasn't as good as what the guys would have been able to do. 
I made sure I screwed the cameras as much as possible 
before I went in. Susanne had me in a containment suit. We 
got them out to a waiting truck, in containment bubbles to 
keep the contagion from spreading. We spilled a lot of 
blood around the place that she'd drawn from herself and 
the guys. Made it look like all four of them were killed 
and the corpses hauled away."

He paused and thought for a while. "We had another week 
before they were past the contagious phase, but we had to 
move fast. Apparently somebody was interested in our 
allegedly dead 'experimental subjects' and was trying to 
trace them. Susanne had to work hard just to keep them 
alive, and I was doing my best to cover our tracks. It's 
been rough." He sighs. "Just like working on the X Files."

"That was probably Yves' father, Mr. Runtz, that was 
looking for them."

He nods. "Good guess. If he'd found them at the CDC, he 
would have bombed the place into a smoking crater. The 
government would chalk it up to yet another terrorist 
attack. Nobody would miss the guys, because they were 
supposed to be dead already. There's been no sign that 
anyone knows we're here, though, and it's a damned good 
thing, because there's no way these guys could run right 
now, the shape they're in. We have to stay low and wait 
here until they're well enough to travel, and not like 
Byers did. God, what a stupid thing to do." Mulder shakes 
his head. "Those two could have blown everything, gotten 
all of us killed."

"But they didn't. And I brought him back. Nobody followed 
us; I was real careful."

"Well, we can't know for sure just yet. If nobody starts 
poking around within a week or so, we're probably safe for 
a while yet. Did you tell anyone at all that Byers is 
alive, or say anything about where you were going?"

I use the damp cloth on John's skin. He shifts a little, 
and I offer him some water. He mumbles and takes a sip, 
then settles down again without ever waking up. "No. I just 
told Kimmy that I wasn't going to be around, probably for a 
long time. He didn't know who I was with or where I went. 
He never saw the car or John. We were long gone before he 
got to the dock to pick up my car."

Mulder looks worried. "God, Kimmy Belmont? That arrogant 
little twat?"

"He's not so bad. He's helped me and Yves out a lot since 
the guys have been... gone."

"Yeah. I've been keeping an eye on your website and 
checking out the newspaper. He's still a twat. And your 
friend Lois is an extremely dangerous woman."

"She doesn't like to be called Lois. She wants to be called 
Yves. She doesn't want anything to do with her dad; she's 
been trying to stop him for years."

"Lois, Yves. Doesn't matter what you call her, she's still 
dangerous."

"She'd never hurt the guys. She cares about them. They're 
her friends."

He shakes his head. "I never said she'd try to hurt them. 
That doesn't change the fact that she's dangerous. If she 
ends up involved in this, we'll be in deep shit."

"Why?" I just don't get why Mulder would be so upset about 
Yves. She never did anything that she didn't have to do, 
and there's no way she'd give the guys to her dad. Last 
year, she let Morris Fletcher take her away to save their 
lives.

He looks annoyed. "Did it ever occur to you that somebody 
might still be looking for her? If she finds out the guys 
are alive, she could lead her father to us without even 
realizing it."

Oh, man. I never thought of that. My breath catches, and I 
can feel my heart slam inside my chest like a fish on a 
hook. "She doesn't know where we are. She wasn't at the 
office when I left." 

I take John's hand and wrap my fingers in his, but he still 
doesn't stir. The idea that somebody might find us here, 
that they might put John or the guys in danger or even try 
to kill them, terrifies me.

"Well, let's hope she doesn't find out." He gets up. "I 
need to go see what's up with dinner." He moves to the bed, 
looking down at John. His voice gets quieter and more 
gentle, and he reaches out and touches John's shoulder with 
his fingertips. "I hope this is worth it to him."

So do I.

Mulder leaves, and I settle back down with John, wrapping 
him in my arms to hold him. He sighs and curls himself 
around me, resting his head on my chest. It feels good. 
I've missed him so much. He's starting to seem more 
comfortable, and some of the pain on his face is fading, 
though he still looks really sick. I think his fever is 
still going down. I'm worried about him, and it's hard to 
shut that out to think about anything else. 

I want to think about our future, about what we'll do once 
he and the guys are better again, but with Susanne here, I 
don't even know what to think about tonight or tomorrow, 
much less a year from now, or longer. I need John. More 
than that, I love him. I've lived without him, and it's not 
something I ever want to do again. If he and Susanne... The 
thought hurts too much and I push it away. I don't want to 
lose him when I just got him back.

John moans and moves a little, tightening his arm around 
me. "Jimmy?" he whispers. His voice is thick and sleepy, 
worried. He sounds like he's eight, and scared of being 
alone. It sends a shiver down my back. It's probably not 
right for me to think this way, but if he's asking for me 
like this, maybe... maybe he'll want to be with me instead 
of Susanne. I sure hope he does.

"It's okay, Johnny, I'm here." I run my hand through his 
hair, tracing the shape of his ear with my thumb. "I love 
you. I'm not going anywhere." I kiss the top of his head, 
burying my face in his hair, and just breath him in.

He gives a little sigh, but doesn't settle. His body is 
wasted and light, but he's real and solid in my arms. I 
keep thinking that I'm suddenly going to wake up and be in 
bed alone, back at the office, with nothing but his picture 
to hold for the rest of my life, and I hug him tight, my 
body shaking. His arm slides further around me and his 
fingers clutch my shirt, taking it tight in his fist. I 
loosen my arms a little, and he relaxes again, but keeps a 
tight grip on the cloth. It's almost like he knows I'm 
here, even though he's asleep, and he doesn't want me to 
leave.

"Please..." He's so quiet, but he sounds like he's about to 
cry.

"I'm here, Johnny, I'm here; I'm not leaving," I tell him 
again. "Everything will be okay." It has to be. They have 
to beat this thing. They have to get better, no matter what 
it takes. 

I rub his back for a long time as I keep telling him I'm 
here and I love him, and that finally seems to calm him 
down again.

"It's time for dinner, Jimmy," Susanne says. It startles me 
and I jump at the sound of her voice.

I look over at her and blink for a minute, trying to get my 
head together. "I... uh, thanks. I'll be there in a 
minute."

She looks kind of upset, but nods and leaves without 
another word. I wonder how long she was standing there 
before she said anything? I hope I haven't messed things up 
again. I seem to be really good at that.

I don't want to leave John, but I'm hungry, and I'd like to 
see the guys again. I sit with him for a few more minutes, 
just holding him. He's still got my shirt in his hand. I 
tell myself I don't want to disturb him, but the truth is, 
I don't want to leave this feeling. I don't want to leave 
the warmth of him or the sound of his breathing or how his 
hair feels under my fingers. I don't want to be away from 
his arms around me, or mine around him. I keep reminding 
myself that he's going to be okay, and that he'll still be 
here after dinner.

John shifts and opens his eyes a little. "Go eat, Jimmy." 
He sounds so tired.

"How do you feel?"

He sighs and snuggles close. "Miserable. Go eat."

I run a hand through his hair and kiss him again. "If 
you're sure you'll be okay alone."

"Mmhm." 

I slide gently out of his arms and get up. He's restless 
for a minute, but rolls onto his side and settles down. I 
feel so lost right now, not touching him.

"I'll be back after dinner," I tell him. I think he's 
asleep again.

Everybody else is at the table already. Even Frohike is 
there. He and Langly and Mulder are talking, and Susanne 
just stares at me when I walk in.

"Frohike?" I wasn't sure if he was getting up to eat or 
not. They'd all been saying he was still in bed all the 
time.

"Who did you think it was?" he says with a grin. I grin 
back. 

"Gotta be him," Langly says. "Nobody else that ugly around 
here."

"Shut up, punk," Frohike tells him. Langly laughs. "My 
first time up, aside from trips to the bathroom." Frohike 
sounds pretty happy with that. I can't blame him.

"You feeling better?" I ask.

"I'm here, aren't I?" His hand is shaking as he picks up 
his fork, but he seems to be doing okay.

I just grin at him. "That's great!"

"Yeah," Langly says, and snorts. "Now we won't be able to 
keep him away from the TV. Next thing you know it's gonna 
be porn marathons."

Frohike looks at him. "You wouldn't know good porn if it 
bit you in the ass, blondie."

"Boys, boys," Mulder says. "I think we can come to a 
reasonable compromise here. I'll pick the tapes."

"Oh, yeah," Langly says. "We know all about your version of 
'compromise.' 'Hookers From Mars' just doesn't trip my 
trigger, dude."

Frohike laughs. "Like anything does. 33 and still a virgin. 
How do you do it, Langly?"

Langly glares at him.

Susanne still doesn't say anything. She just looks 
exhausted and upset.

"Dinner's in the kitchen," Langly says to me, pointing over 
his shoulder through the doorway. "How's Byers?"

I start for the kitchen. "His fever's down some. He's not 
sweating as much as he was. He was awake for a minute or 
two, but I hope he'll wake up for longer soon."

"That's better than I was expecting," Frohike says.

As I enter the kitchen, I hear Susanne say, "It's better 
than I was expecting, too." She sounds relieved, but 
there's tension in her voice. 

On the counter, there's some chicken, a little salad, and a 
bowl of potatoes. I take some of everything, and put some 
butter on the potatoes, then go back to the table and sit 
with everyone. "He was pretty restless for a while. I think 
maybe he was having bad dreams or something. I got him to 
calm down, though."

"That's good," Langly says. "For a long time, it would take 
hours to do that. I'd sit with him before he could get up -
- we were all three sharing a room for a couple months -- 
and he wasn't sleeping too well. He'd wake me up. Pissed me 
off, but it's not like he could help it." He turns to 
Frohike. "At least you were quiet at night once in a 
while."

Frohike pokes Langly's ribs with a finger. "You were no 
sterling example of quiet nights yourself, you hippie. I 
could hardly hear myself think when you were snoring."

Langly gets all huffy. "For your information, Doohickey, 
that was my asthma acting up. I never snore unless it's my 
asthma."

"Yeah, right. I think you're allergic to your hair. You 
should get it cut." Frohike reaches up and grabs a lock of 
it, and Langly slaps his hand away.

"No way, man. Nobody's touching my hair!"

Mulder smirks, but there's a little sadness in his eyes. 
"You three were all louder than the 1812 Overture until 
just recently. It's been a hell of a lot more peaceful 
since you've all learned to breathe on your own again."

Frohike glares at Langly. Langly sticks his tongue out at 
Frohike. Man, I almost feel like things are normal again. I 
chuckle at both of them, and they both turn and glare at 
me. I love these guys so much. 

Susanne just sits there silently, eating.

I dig into my dinner. The chicken is really awesome, and 
the potatoes are done just right. "This is real good." I'm 
not sure who cooked it, except it wasn't Langly because he 
burns stuff.

"Thank you," Susanne mumbles. She doesn't look up at me. 
She seems all cold and prickly now, not like she was 
earlier. I think she must have figured out about me and 
John, or at least suspects. I didn't think I'd be able to 
hide it, but I never had a chance, because I didn't even 
know she was watching us. I hope she won't try to make me 
leave, or not be near him. If she tries, I won't. I can't. 
Nothing could make me leave John again.

Nothing but John telling me to go.

I finish my dinner as fast as I can, then take my stuff to 
the kitchen and wash it. It only takes a minute. I have to 
go and be with John again. I feel like I've already been 
away too long. I don't know where anybody is expecting me 
to sleep tonight, but I think Susanne's going to put me in 
another room, or on the couch or something. I bet she'll 
say that my being there with him would keep him from 
resting.

If she says it's better for him, I won't argue, but I don't 
have to like it, either. I think she's mad enough at me 
already. I'm glad Frohike and Langly are doing better 
though. I don't know what I'd do without them. All the guys 
mean so much to me. It's so good to have them back again.

John has shifted since I left him, and he's hot and 
sweating again. His breathing has gotten rougher again too. 
I use the cool cloth on him, but this can't be good. I need 
to tell Susanne.

I find her in Frohike's room, giving him some pills.

"Susanne..."

She looks up. "Yes?"

"John's fever is back."

"Oh, shit," Frohike moans.

She looks a little scared. "Are you sure?"

"He's sweating again and felt hotter than when I left him 
to go eat."

"This isn't good." She picks up some stuff and we go into 
John's room. She looks at him and feels his forehead. 
"You're right. He does feel warmer than he was earlier." 

She takes a thermometer and slides it between his lips. He 
doesn't move. We both stand there waiting, all anxious. A 
few minutes later she pulls it out again. "This isn't good 
at all," she says, and looks up at me. "He shouldn't be 
doing this. He should be past this already." She listens to 
his chest, then takes his pulse.

"Was it happening when... when they were all real sick?" I 
feel my stomach knotting up.

Susanne nods. "We're going to have to monitor him 
constantly," she says. "I need to go get some medications 
for him. Stay with him."

I sit on the bed next to him and nod. "I won't leave him," 
I promise her. If she was upset with me earlier, she's a 
lot more upset about how John is doing, and it doesn't look 
like she's going to let whatever she thinks of me interfere 
with how she takes care of him. I'm glad for that. At least 
we can both agree that he's more important than either of 
us right now. I can breathe a little easier because of 
that. I just wish John could.

Langly and Mulder come in while Susanne's away.

"Frohike said his fever's up again," Mulder says. Langly 
just comes over and puts a hand on John's forehead, then 
sits down at his other side and starts to rub his back.

"Feels that way," Langly says.

"Susanne went for some medicine," I tell them.

Langly picks up the cup of water on the side table. "Get 
him up a little, Jimmy. He's gotta drink enough water to 
help get his fever down."

I shift John and Langly puts the cup to his lips. John sips 
a little then stills again. His eyes open into tiny slits.

"Where?" he mumbles. He sounds afraid.

"You're safe," Langly says. "We're in Vermont. Jimmy's 
here, like you wanted. You need some more water." He offers 
John the cup again.

John sips some more, then turns his head a little to look 
at me and slides one hand onto my arm. It's like he can 
barely move. "Jimmy." He sighs and closes his eyes again. 
Langly puts his hand over John's on my arm.

"I'm glad you're here, dude," he says to me. "Looks like 
you've got a handle on him."

"You shouldn't have told her," Mulder says.

I look up at him. "I didn't. She was standing in the 
doorway watching me with him before she told me dinner was 
ready. I didn't know she was there."

He sighs. "Shit."

Langly looks over to Mulder. "Lay off him, Mulder. It's not 
like Lassie here was gonna be able to hide it. You knew as 
well as I did that this was gonna be trouble. She's always 
trouble."

"She saved your lives," I remind him.

"That doesn't make this any easier," he says. "And we have 
to make sure she's not planning on bailing on us while he 
and Frohike are still this sick."

I look down at John. "She won't." I know it. I can feel it. 
She loves him too much to leave him like this. I think she 
loves him as much as I do.

Susanne comes back with a baggie in her hand, and puts it 
up with the half-empty one on the wall. She hooks it into 
the ivy line in John's hand. "I'm guessing we'll need to 
keep him on this for about a week. I don't want to take any 
chances of the fever and chills coming back again after 
they end this time. It's too hard on his body."

The guys look at her and nod. She looks at me. Her voice is 
all cold and hard. "At least two of you need to be here at 
all times, one to monitor him and one to get me if 
necessary. You and I will talk later." She turns and walks 
out of the room.

"Her Highness has spoken," Langly says. He sounds angry.

Mulder just watches her walk down the hall, then he looks 
back at me. "Looks like Byers has a roomie."

I feel a huge weight come off my heart, like somebody 
pulled a giant anvil off me. Susanne might be upset, but I 
was right. She's not going to let it keep her from getting 
John and Frohike better. That's all I care about right now. 
Maybe she can wait for that 'talk' until John's back with 
us and can speak for himself. I sure hope so. He's way 
better at explaining things than me, and he's the one who 
has to decide what, or who, he wants. I just want him to be 
happy. I know it's selfish, but whatever happens, I hope 
he'll want me around.

***

A few minutes later, Susanne brings in one of those beeping 
monitors and hooks John up to it. It beeps in time to his 
heartbeat, and Mulder says it gives her other information 
too, like his temperature and blood pressure. That's sort 
of like tire pressure for people, but with no air. She's in 
and out checking his temperature and stuff as the night 
goes on, while Mulder and Langly trade off with each other 
in here with me. When Susanne comes in, she doesn't talk to 
me or look at me. She always talks to Mulder or Langly. 
It's like if she pretends I'm not here, it's easier for 
her. I don't like it, but I don't want to make it harder 
for either of us than it already is.

After a while, it's just me and Mulder, because even though 
Langly's a lot better than John or Frohike, he's still got 
to rest and get his sleep. Susanne doesn't let him stay up 
past 2 am. When she tells him to go to bed, he's all in her 
face about it, but he goes anyway. I don't say very much 
while we sit with John. All this stuff with Susanne feels 
real awkward, and I wish I knew what to do. I don't want 
her to be unhappy, but there doesn't seem to be anything I 
can do to make her feel better.

All night long, John has fevers and then chills. First he's 
all hot and sweaty, and then he's cold and clammy and can't 
stop shivering. All I can think about is how much I want 
him to get well, and what Susanne is going to do when he 
does. Finally, I can't keep it in anymore.

"Has she said anything about me and John?" I ask Mulder.

He looks up from the book he's been reading. "I think she 
got freaked out by you and Byers. She claimed the way you 
were acting 'wasn't right.' Langly and Frohike about bit 
her face off."

I hold John close and pull some blankets up around his 
shoulders. He's shivering again. "I wish she wasn't so 
angry."

"She's probably feeling threatened," he says.

I guess she would be. "I wish things weren't so 
complicated."

Mulder just grins and shakes his head. "Everything's 
complicated, especially where the Gunmen are concerned. 
This is just a complication that most people wouldn't 
expect. The guys have always been a lot more likely to get 
into trouble with their work, not their personal lives. 
Then again, they haven't had personal lives the entire time 
I've known them."

That pisses me off. "Of course they have personal lives. 
You've just never been around to see them. The guys are 
just like everybody else." 

"Shit, Jimmy, I¹m not dissing them. I¹m just saying they 
don¹t get out much. At least, not unless it¹s about a 
story."

Well, that's true. They have -- they had friends and 
contacts and people they helped, but they didn't have 
people who were close to them and really cared about them, 
except me and Yves. Langly's gaming buddies don't really 
count; mostly it was just about gaming, not about people. 
The guys always worked really hard, and they were working 
on their investigations all the time. "Maybe you're right."

"Of course I'm right." He leans back in his chair.

"Would you plug in another heating pad?" John's shivering 
is getting bad again. Susanne said that if he got too cold, 
we should call her, but I want to try to get him warm again 
like this first. It's what she did the last time we called 
her in because he was shivering.

Mulder pulls one off the top of the dresser and plugs it 
in, then hands it to me. I turn it on to medium, because 
she said we shouldn't have them on hot for very long if we 
used them. She says medium is better and less likely to 
overheat him and push him back into a fever. I don't want 
that. I tuck this one around the back of his neck. There's 
already one at his feet and another on his back, and they 
seem to help some, but not enough.

When I lean back against the head of the bed, Mulder says, 
"You need some sleep."

I start to say I'm okay, but when I open my mouth, all that 
comes out is a big yawn. "I can't. I need to watch John."

"You¹re talking to the King of Insomnia. I'll keep an eye 
on Byers. I won't tell mom if you won't." He grins and 
winks at me.

The idea's real tempting. "I don't want to leave him."

"I didn't say leave. I just said get some sleep."

I look over at Mulder, then down at John. Maybe if I got 
under the covers with him, I could help warm him up more. 
Then again, if Susanne came in while I was asleep and found 
me under the covers with him, I'm pretty sure it would just 
make things worse. The night is pretty warm, so I don't 
need a blanket. Even if I did, with all these heating pads 
John has wrapped around him, that would have been more than 
enough for me. 

"You'll make sure that you take the heating pads away when 
he warms up enough?"

"I've had a lot of practice in the last few months. I know 
what to do."

"Okay. Thanks."

"No problem," he says. Mulder goes back to reading his book 
while I settle in.

I slide down on the bed from where I've been sitting and 
curl up with John. He shifts along with me, and his head 
slides onto my shoulder. It feels good. I'm a little 
embarrassed to be like this with John in front of Mulder, 
but he knew about us not long after we got together. It 
never bothered Mulder at all, but John was never very 
physical when we were around other people. Even when it was 
just us and the guys, he usually wanted to wait until we 
were alone before he would do more than just let me hug him 
a little. He's always been way shy, and asked me not to do 
that too often in public, especially when we weren't at the 
office. Well, that at least I could understand.

I close my eyes and let the feeling of being next to him 
fill me up. His breathing is still rough, but it's steady. 
His hair is soft under my chin, and soon I fall asleep.

***

When I wake up, Susanne is here with me. She's looking at 
the monitor though, not me. Mulder's gone, and Langly isn't 
here. It's still dark and I can hear the crickets through 
the open bedroom window. It reminds me of when I was a kid. 

John is still curled around me, his head on my chest. He 
feels like he's not fevering or chilling right now, so 
maybe he's going to be up again tomorrow. I sure hope so. I 
run a hand through his hair, and try to stretch my other 
arm without waking him up. It's all pins and needles, and 
my whole arm and hand has that tingly hurting feeling.

She looks up when I move, and suddenly we're staring at 
each other. This is... bad. Neither of us says anything for 
a while. I don¹t dare, and I don't think it's that great an 
idea if she starts either. John's not awake to talk to her, 
and I don't think she's going to listen to anything I say. 
Maybe if I just don't say anything, she'll forget she wants 
to --

"How long?" she asks. Her voice is quiet but it cuts.

"I don't know, I think maybe I've been asleep for a couple 
hours. Mulder was going to keep an eye --"

She snorts and crosses her arms, interrupting me. "No, how 
long have you and John been... involved?"

Oh god, I so don't want to answer that question without 
John to tell her this stuff himself. "I... we..." I take a 
deep breath. I'm not ashamed of what he is to me, or what 
I've been to him, but she's angry and sounds suspicious, 
and I have to say something. I'm just not sure what.

She's standing there tapping one foot on the floor with 
those crossed arms, wound up like my English teacher in 
third grade. Her face and body are all tight. She looks 
like I just handed in my spelling test and she's gonna make 
me go to the principal's office.

I swallow the lump in my throat that won't let me breathe. 
It's about the size of a chipmunk. A wiggly, really furry 
chipmunk. "Most of a year, before I had to leave to find 
Yves." 

Leaving him was the worst mistake I ever made. It was worse 
than the time I blew out all the electrical stuff in the HQ 
when I plugged the dryer into the wrong outlet, and the 
guys all yelled at me for like a whole week afterwards. It 
was worse than having to let John get beat up in prison 
when we were trying to find out if Douglas Pfeiffer was 
innocent or guilty. It took weeks for the bruises to go 
away, and every time I looked at him I knew we should have 
done it differently. It was even worse than the time I 
thought the guys died in that missile silo where we thought 
the water-powered car was hidden -- at least then I knew 
they were still alive after just a few hours.

"So this started two years ago?" she asks. The look on her 
face is like she just swallowed a bug. I nod. 

"And you'd been gone a year of that time."

I nod again. I think it's better to answer like this. At 
least I won't say anything stupid.

"Why John?"

That's an easy question to answer, but at the same time, 
it's so hard to say all the reasons so that she would 
understand. "Because I love him." It's the closest thing I 
can say to the whole truth without talking about it for the 
rest of the week.

"So do I," she says.

"I know. He told me about you."

"What did he say?"

I look down at John's face. I wish he could talk to her. 
"He ... knew what you did was dangerous. He thought he'd 
never see you again."

She's getting even more upset. Her voice is all wobbly and 
she sounds like she's about to cry. "So how did all of this 
happen?"

"I'm not real sure. It just sorta happened. I thought he 
was straight. He thought I was straight. But you know, 
sometimes things happen. Things you can't even explain."

"I'm having a hard time getting used to this." She's upset.

All this just makes me think of how shy he was after that 
first night we were together, how hard it was for him to 
talk to me, even though we both wanted more. The next day 
when we woke up in his bed, he could hardly look at me at 
first. I was afraid he thought it was a mistake and would 
throw me out, make me leave him and the guys, but he let 
his body say what he couldn't with words. I never thought 
there could be anything that would take his words away.

"Susanne, maybe you should talk to John about this when 
he's awake."

"I think you're avoiding this."

Well yeah, I am. I'm trying to, anyway. "I can't speak for 
John. I don't know what he wants. All I know is that I love 
him, and that he wanted me here enough to come and get me, 
so I'm going to be here for him." I want to cry, but I 
won't. Not with her here. I hold John closer to keep myself 
from falling apart. He mumbles and wraps himself around me 
tight, then settles down again.

Her face gets colder. "You're the reason this happened to 
them -- happened to him -- in the first place. If you 
hadn't gone off on that little globe-trotting expedition of 
yours, their lives would never have been in danger. If it 
weren't for you, they would never have been exposed to this 
virus, would never have come so close to dying, would 
never..." Susanne chokes. She closes her eyes tight and 
hard, and turns away from me, her hand over her mouth.

"I know it's my fault," I say quietly. I can only hold him, 
my face in his hair, trying to hide the tears that are 
burning me as they fall. "I think about it all the time. 
But only John can tell us what he wants or needs."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I'm having a very 
hard time seeing John as... what he is," she says.

"I'm sorry." I'm sorry that it hurts her, but not that I'm 
here with him.

"It's hard to ignore this, to act like it's not happening. 
It's not easy for me to deal with."

My voice is starting to shake. "Yeah, but I care about him. 
It's hard for me to pretend I don't."

She's still facing the window, not me and John. "I can't 
pretend either, Jimmy. I've loved him for a very long time. 
I've wanted to be with him for years. It almost feels like 
you're trying to steal him from me."

"I'm not trying to steal anything. I know you love him 
too," I tell her.

She turns around and looks me in the eyes. "I still love 
him very much. I want him in my life," she says.

"I know, believe me. I can understand that real well." 

Suddenly there's something fierce in her. "If I have to 
fight for him, I will."

I shudder. "I don't want to fight about anything. John has 
to make the decision about what he wants."

He shifts in my arms, and Susanne and I both stop talking. 
She looks at those monitor things again. I guess they're 
okay, because she sits down on the bed at John's other side 
and puts a hand on his back.

"I wish I had what you've had with him," she whispers. She 
looks up at me all sad, then down at John again, and starts 
rubbing his back real soft and gentle.

He makes a little contented hummy noise in his chest, just 
like he used to when he was asleep and felt safe in our bed 
with me. I haven't heard that sound in so long. It sends 
that attic electric jolt through my body, and I'm glad he's 
covering me, because I'd be totally embarrassed if Susanne 
saw how hard I just got.

"I never met anybody I wanted to spend my life with before 
I met him," I tell her. I mean, I wanted someone to love 
and to be with, but John is the first person that ever made 
me feel like I'd found somebody right for that. It's been 
the most incredible feeling. I always hoped he felt that 
way about me, even knowing that he loves her too. I don't 
know how we're going to work this out. "He's... he's the 
best person I've ever known, Susanne. After all this, I 
don't know if I could live without him again."

She keeps looking down at John, tears rolling down her 
cheeks. "I don't know if I could, either."

I hand her some tissue, and she wipes her eyes and blows 
her nose. 

"I'm not here to hurt you. I don't want any of us to hurt 
like this. He needs you to get well. You're the only person 
who knows how to make him better. You have to do that for 
him and Frohike."

She nods. "I don't plan on leaving them. Despite Frohike 
and Langly's suspicions, they're my friends. They've helped 
me so much, and I can't leave them like this. I certainly 
can't leave John, and I don't plan on it."

"I would never ask you to do that."

She finally looks up at me. "I didn't understand why John 
asked for you so much. There was... there was a desperation 
in it that I should have been able to figure out, if I'd 
been thinking clearly. I don't like it. I don't like what's 
happened between the two of you, but I can't force John 
into a decision that he doesn't want to make."

"Neither can I. We both know he has to decide what he 
wants."

"How can you be so calm about this? Why aren't you angry 
with me, like Frohike and Ringo? It certainly seems like 
you'd have just as much reason as they do. Maybe even 
more."

"You saved their lives. How could I be mad at you just 
because you love him too? John... he loves you. He wouldn't 
love somebody who was a bad person. But I don't understand 
about why you made all those bad chimeracles to control 
people's minds. That's not a good thing to do at all."

"Chimer... chemicals, Jimmy, chemicals." She shivers a 
little. It's just a tiny bit, but I can see it. "I had no 
choice. If I didn't do it, the people I worked for were 
going to kill me. And I tried to stop them from using the 
drugs. The first time, I managed to stop them from 
performing their EBO -- their test -- because John and his 
friends helped me. But John couldn't stop the men I worked 
for from taking me back." She shudders all of a sudden.

Susanne reaches up and runs her hand through John's hair, 
then her fingers trace his cheek and down his neck to his 
shoulder. She watches him as she touches him. "They did 
horrible things to me, Jimmy. I thought I would die, and I 
wanted to die. I hoped for years that John might find me 
again, and help pull me out of that deep, dark pit I lived 
in. I wanted him to find me. For years, I wanted to be with 
him. I thought he could make everything right for me. But 
then I met Grant. He convinced me that he was the same kind 
of man John was, but he lied to me about everything. He 
persuaded me to create the Anoetic-Histamine drug, along 
with an antidote, so that we could expose the government's 
plans for political assassination through mind control. But 
John and the guys saved my life again, despite my misplaced 
trust in Grant."

She looks up at me again. "I asked John to come with me 
then, to leave Las Vegas with me and start a new life, just 
the two of us. Walking away when he said no was the hardest 
thing I've ever done. I know he thought it was for my 
protection, but I wished every day that he had come with 
me. I don't know if we would have been safe, but at least 
we would have been together. And so I did my best to make a 
life without him, and that's another of the hardest things 
I've had to do. Maybe you can understand that."

"Yeah," I whisper. I want to hold John tighter, to keep him 
to myself, but her story breaks my heart. I know she needs 
him just like I do, but she's never had the chance to be 
with him. I know how much he loves her too. I just ache for 
both of them. I wish I knew what to do, what to say. I feel 
like there's no good answer for this. Love stories are 
supposed to be simple. People are supposed to be happy at 
the end. Why isn't this one working out?

"Seeing him when they brought him and the guys into my 
department at the CDC..." She just breaks down and sobs. 

That must have been so awful for her to see him like that, 
not even knowing how he'd been, with that glowing goo 
oozing from him -- to see them all and believe they were 
dying. I know how horrible it was for me to watch them 
collapse in that room with Gillnitz. I reach over and take 
her hand. She just cries harder. 

I don't want her to hurt like this. I can't help it; I'm 
crying with her. The next thing I know, we're lying on 
either side of John, holding each other, both of us holding 
him. He's still here, alive. It's the only comfort we have. 

John's too sick to be carrying that right now. We should be 
the ones being strong for him. Maybe, if we're lucky, both 
of us loving him this much can be his strength. Maybe 
she'll think about that, and won't be angry with me for a 
while. Or maybe it will just make her more mad at me, 
knowing I've been so close to him when she never could be. 
I wish I knew what to do. 

Susanne's crying quiets down after a while. She runs a hand 
along John's side as he lies curled around me, with her 
body spooned up against his back. He sighs and shifts his 
weight a little. I'm glad we didn't wake him up. 

She looks up at me. "I can't give him up." She's gone back 
to looking kind of angry and frightened. I wonder how I 
look to her. I'm pretty scared myself.

"He needs all of us. We have to be here for him. Everything 
else can wait. It has to wait." Better that we all let it 
wait instead being enemies when he needs us to work 
together. You can't have a good team if everybody on it is 
fighting with each other. Teams like that lose, and we 
can't afford to lose this one. John is too important. We 
need to pull together to make sure he gets better.

Langly needs to get off her case. She needs to get off 
mine. I need to keep from getting into a fight with her as 
best I can and just be here for John. He'd always tell me I 
could do anything I really wanted to if I'd just stay 
focused. This is the most important thing I've ever had to 
do. I have to do it for him. I don't know if she's more 
pissed because I'm a guy, or because anybody's in love with 
him but her.

I don't have much time to think about that, because Frohike 
walks in, dressed in pajamas and a bathrobe.

"Since when did this become a menage a trois?" he asks.

"It hasn't," Susanne says. She blushes really red. "Why 
aren't you in bed, asleep?"

"I might ask you the same question, but, ah..." He motions 
to the three of us lying on the bed.

She's getting upset, though I'm not sure what this menah 
zhitwah thing is that Frohike's talking about. I may not 
understand, but I know I don't want her any more upset than 
she's already been. "Leave her alone, Frohike. It's not 
like she doesn't have Langly bothering her all the time 
already."

He just looks at me and huffs. "I couldn't sleep anymore, 
and I've already spent three months in bed. It's time I got 
up for a change. I just wanted to come check on Byers."

"He's doing better," I tell him. He comes and sits on the 
edge of the bed.

Susanne gets up. "I'm going to bed. Make sure to wake me if 
John's condition changes." She looks at me as she leaves, 
and I think maybe she'll try to be a little more patient 
next time. I know Mulder hasn't been standing up for her 
when the guys have been giving her a hard time. I know they 
don't like her much and she's been kind of hard to get 
along with, but they should at least be grateful that she 
kept them alive.

"Yeah, yeah," Frohike says.
 
"What's that menah... menah... whatever that thing is you 
asked Susanne about?"

Frohike snorts. "Three people in a ... an intimate 
relationship."

Oh. Well, that's really not happening here. Then again, if 
that happened, maybe John wouldn't have to make a decision 
for one of us to leave. But, I mean, I don't think Susanne 
likes me enough for something like that to happen. And I 
really don't think she'd let me... well, you know. I know 
John loves her, but I'm not interested in her at all. Not 
like that anyway.

"That sounds pretty complicated," I tell him.

"Usually is," he says.

"She's scared, Frohike. You and Langly giving her a hard 
time is only making things worse."

"And your point is?"
 
"She really wants me to leave."

He looks at me. "So she wants you to leave. So what? Byers 
doesn't, and Langly and I aren't ready to throw you out 
yet. A live volcano would be a hell of a lot better for him 
than she ever was." He looks down at John and puts a hand 
on his forehead. "No fever," he says. "This is good."

"I think maybe he's gonna be okay now. He hasn't had a 
chill in a while either."

"It'll take more than a day or two to be sure about that."

"She saved his life, Frohike. And yours and Langly's. I 
could never have done that. This wouldn't have happened in 
the first place if I hadn't gone looking for Yves."

Frohike looks up at me, all angry. "Don't even start on 
that shit with me, Jimmy. It had nothing to do with you. 
Even if we'd never met you, we would still have been 
dealing with Yves, and this would have happened anyway. At 
least this way, we stopped the virus before it spread."

"But I should have been able to get there before you guys 
locked yourselves in with him!"

He shakes his head. "And done what? Cut the cartilage 
container out of him? Nobody could have done that by then."

"I don't know." He's right, and I'm not sure I could have 
cut somebody up like that anyway. "But I'd have tried to do 
something! I wouldn't have let you guys lock yourselves in 
there with him."

"We did what we had to do, Jimmy. We couldn't very well let 
thousands of people die, if we could contain the virus. We 
figured that our three lives would be a small price to pay 
for several thousand others. If we hadn't done it, we would 
have died anyway, right along with all those other people. 
And you. And Yves. It was... we were just doing what we 
believed in. What we had to."

It's hard for me to look at him, hearing him say that, but 
I know he's right. They were doing what they believed in, 
the kind of thing they've always done. I look down at John, 
and seeing him like this hurts so much. "I can't help 
feeling that I should have been there. There should have 
been something I could have done."

Frohike looks down at John too. "There wasn't. But the fact 
is, we're still alive, which is a lot more than any of us 
hoped for when we did it."

"It should have been me. You guys should never have had to 
go through this."

"Get off it, Jimmy. What happened, happened. You can't 
change the past. The only thing you can do is live while 
you're alive. Quit beating yourself up over it."

Frohike brushes John's hair back from his face. "Get 
better, damn it." he says, real soft. "If you die, I'll 
kill you."

"He won't die. Susanne won't let him. Neither will I."

He looks back up at me. "You, I might actually trust on 
that."

"She's the doctor."

"You're the one he loves. God knows why."

My heart skips a beat when he says that. "He loves her, 
too."

Frohike frowns. "Yeah, I know. More's the pity. I just 
don't get what he sees in her. I mean, sure, she's hot and 
she's brilliant, but she's trouble. She's not worth it."

"She saved your lives. Isn't that worth it?" I can't 
believe how he and Langly are about her. They're usually 
really smart guys, but they're not getting this at all. 
Maybe they just don't want to.

"Didn't I already tell you that every time she's been 
around us, we've almost gotten killed?" He's angry.

"Well, yeah. But she didn't do this to you guys. She saved 
you, and she really cares about all of you."

"Coulda fooled me."

This is so frustrating. "Only because you're not looking. 
You've got lots of brains, Frohike. Why can't you see 
this?"

"Why can't you see what a snake she is?"

"I can see what she's done for John, and how much she loves 
him."

John shifts and turns over in my arms to lie on his other 
side facing Frohike. "Tired..." he mutters. His voice is 
hoarse, and he sounds exhausted.

"Byers?" Frohike asks. All his anger is gone now. He's 
totally focused on John.

"Hmm?" John shifts again, and snuggles down to get his head 
comfortable on my shoulder.

Frohike takes John's hand. "It's me, Frohike. You might 
know me from the mug shots."

"Frohike?" His eyes open a tiny crack. John recognizes him, 
and gets a little bit of a smile on his face. "You're up."

Frohike grins. "Wish I could say the same for you, buddy." 
He cups John's face in one hand and runs his thumb along 
his cheek. "You look like shit."

John groans. "You and Mulder... you're always so 
encouraging."

"We should tell Susanne that he's awake," I tell Frohike.

"Why?" He looks at me and John lying together. "You'd have 
to get up, and then Byers would have to move."

"You could tell her."

He gives me this glum look. "Then I'd have to move."

John sighs and looks up at Frohike. "Please," he asks.

"The things I do for my friends," he says.

"Don't be that way," I tell him.

He snorts as he leaves the room. "She's trouble," he 
mutters.

"The guys aren't being very kind to her," I tell John. 
"Frohike's really angry."

He just lies there and whimpers a little. I give him some 
water.

"Do you hurt? Do you need anything?"

"My head aches," he whispers.

I hear Susanne and Frohike in the hallway. "I'm sure she'll 
have something she can give you for it." 

John nods. He takes my hand and looks at me. "Jimmy, I... I 
love you," he says, all quiet. "I'm sorry I never told you 
before."

"I know, John," I whisper back. I feel like my heart's 
about to explode, and my eyes start leaking. "I love you 
too. It's okay."

He shakes his head. "No. I should have told you." He shifts 
and turns again, rolling to face me. "It's always been hard 
for me, talking about those things."

I wrap him in my arms and he kisses me, soft and gentle, 
just as Frohike and Susanne walk in. 

She coughs, and we look up at her. John smiles.

"Susanne," he says. He reaches out one hand to her. It's 
shaking, but he's holding it up.

She takes his hand and sits next to us. I sort of expected 
her to glare at me, but she's only looking at him. There's 
a trembling smile on her face, and she leans down to kiss 
him. It's a warm kiss on his mouth like the one he just 
gave me, and he sighs and smiles again when she's done.

"How are you feeling?" she asks.

"I have a headache," he says, "and I feel awful." He's more 
awake than he was when he first opened his eyes, but he's 
barely holding on to it.

She runs her thumb softly over his lips. "I'll give you 
something for it in a minute. I... I wasn't expecting you 
to wake for another day or two. I'm glad you're with us 
again."

"I could still sleep for a week." His voice is quiet and 
still hoarse. He lifts her hand to his lips and kisses it. 
"I love you, Susanne," he tells her. "You don't know how 
much what you've done means to us, how much it means to 
me." 

All this makes me nervous, but I've known for a long time 
that he loves her, and he just told me he loves me a minute 
ago -- something he's never done before. He wouldn't say it 
if he didn't mean it. He may be weak and tired and sick, 
but his head's clear, and he knows what he's saying.

She looks down at him, then up at me, really confused. 
"John, I..."

"Byers," Frohike says. It's that warning voice he has; the 
same one he uses on me when he thinks I've done something 
stupid.

I shoot him a look. "Don't even start."

Susanne looks at me, and her eyes are all soft and teary. 
"Thank you," she says.

"I know you're angry at me," I tell her, "but I still think 
the guys don't treat you right."

"Frohike," John says, "I'm exhausted and I don't know how 
long I can stay awake. I need to talk with both of them 
now. Alone."

Frohike grunts and shakes his head. As he leaves, he 
mutters, "Byers, do me a favor. Don't do anything stupid." 
He closes the door behind him.

John looks at Susanne. "I heard some of what you two were 
saying earlier. I don't want you to fight with each other."

She and I look at each other and then at him. I didn't have 
any idea he could hear us, and I think she didn't either. 
There's shock on her face. There's probably some on mine, 
too.

"What do you want, John?" she asks. She's really asking him 
who he wants.

"A chance to start over," he says. He moves, and tries to 
sit up. I sit and help him so that he can. I hope it 
doesn't make him too dizzy or anything.

Susanne gives him some more water, and he sips it for a 
while then gives it back to her.

"What do you mean by that?" she asks.

He looks at her, then wraps an arm around each of us. We 
both share the hug with him. Both of us are waiting for him 
to say something else, but he's silent for a while.

"Are you doing okay?" I ask.

He nods. "Yeah, I think so." His voice isn't so rough now, 
but it's still very quiet. The water must have helped some 
this time. He looks at each of us, and closes his eyes. 
It's like he's struggling with what he wants to say.

"Whatever it is, it's okay," I tell him. He squeezes us 
both just a little. I think it's all he can manage.

He doesn't open his eyes when he speaks. "I've wasted so 
much time," he says. "All my life, I've never been able to 
tell the people I care for most how I feel. I need to 
change that."

I nod. I've seen how hard that's been for him.

His voice is shaking as he speaks again. "I need both of 
you. I... I love both of you. I don't know what to do." He 
takes a deep breath while Susanne and I just sit and 
listen. "I don't want to lose either of you."

The next thing I know, he's crying, and if talking about 
this stuff is hard for him, crying is even worse. I've only 
seen him do it a couple of times.

I start rubbing his back, and I kiss his neck. "I'll do 
anything you want, John. I want to be with you. I'd do 
anything to stay with you -- anything at all. I don't care 
what you ask for, I'll do it, if it means I can be with 
you."

Susanne isn't able to say anything at all. Her mouth moves, 
but nothing comes out. John's holding both of us with all 
the strength he has -- it's not much -- and I'm not sure 
how long he can keep this up. It must be exhausting him.

"Lie down, John," I tell him. "You need to rest."

"No," he says, "not yet. I just..." His voice crumbles.

"Please," I ask him, "don't do this to yourself. You don't 
have to do this right now. You need to get better first. 
This can wait." Now I'm about to cry too. The last thing I 
want is for him to make himself sick again from stressing 
out about this.

Susanne takes a tissue off the side table next to the bed 
and blows her nose. She gives him one and he wipes his eyes 
and nose. 

"I don't know what to say," she finally says. "I have... 
I've got so many questions. John, I love you. I've loved 
you for years, and when we parted last time, I knew I would 
find you again someday. But I don't want to have to... to 
share you with someone, either. It's not normal. It's 
not... it's not right. You know this could never work. I 
mean, maybe I could understand if it was another woman, but 
--"

John takes a deep breath. "I need both of you in my life," 
he says through his tears. 

I can see how hard talking about this is for him. And I can 
see how hard the whole idea is on her. At first I thought 
maybe she just couldn't take the idea of John being with 
anybody else. Now I know that it's about me being a guy, 
and that really hurts. It's like the love John and I have 
for each other isn't real because I'm not a girl. That's so 
wrong.

"Jimmy's given me so much since I met him," he says. "He's 
loved me with no reservations, without holding anything 
back. I've never had that before. I won't let go of that, 
or him."

"I've been waiting for the day I could give you that, 
John," she says. "Give me a chance." They're both still 
crying.

"I want to," he says to her. "There's so much you haven't 
had the chance to know about me. So much has happened in my 
life that you were never there to see. I know that wasn't 
your choice, or your fault. The choices I've made, the 
things that have happened to me -- we never had a chance to 
share that. We've never had the chance to learn about each 
other the way we should have over the years, Susanne."

He takes a deep breath. "I've gone through a lot of changes 
in the thirteen years since we first met. My life changed 
so much. I wish you could have been with me, but you 
weren't. I know that was because you couldn't be -- because 
of circumstances beyond our control. In Las Vegas, I 
couldn't go with you, much as I wanted to, because the risk 
to your life was too great. I couldn't bring their 
attention to you like that after we'd worked so hard to 
hide you. And when I met Jimmy, he... stirred things in me 
that I hadn't been able to deal with before. He wasn't the 
first man in my life, but he's the only person I've ever 
had the chance to be with, to really share my life with. 
I'd like to have that chance with you as well."

"I'm just asking you to take me as I am, to try to trust 
me. I know this is hard to understand, but... I came too 
close to dying, Susanne. It's changed the way I think about 
a lot of things, the way I feel about a lot of things." His 
voice is getting quieter. He's getting so tired. He needs 
to stop this and lie down again. "Please," he says, "just 
consider it for a while."

She nods and kisses him again. "I'll consider it," she 
says. She sounds like she's not sure about the whole idea, 
and it's obvious she still doesn't like it. I'm not sure I 
like it either, but I'll do anything if it means I can 
still be a part of his life.

He moans, soft, and starts to slump over against me. "John? 
Are you okay?" I tilt his head so I can see his face. His 
eyes are only half open now.

"John?" Susanne says.

"I need to lie down," he says. Thank god he finally 
realized it. His eyes close tight. The pain is back in his 
face.

"I'll get him something for the headache," she says, then 
hurries out of the room. 

I help John lie down again. He's panting. This took way too 
much out of him.

"Easy," I tell him. "Just rest, okay? Susanne will be back 
in a second with some medicine for you."

He nods. "I'll be okay," he whispers. His eyes open again 
and he looks in my eyes. They're so blue I could fall into 
them forever. "Don't leave me."

I bite my lip to keep myself from crying. I can't let 
myself do that in front of him right now. "I won't," I 
promise him. "I'll never leave you again. They'd have to 
drag me away with wild elephants."

He smiles and closes his eyes again as Susanne comes back. 
She puts a little needle full of something into John's ivy 
line, then sets the needle down and comes to sit next to 
him again.

"That should start working in just a few minutes, John. 
It'll help you sleep as well as helping with the pain."

He takes her hand and squeezes it. "Thank you." I can 
barely hear him say it.

"Rest, John," I tell him. "I'll be here for as long as you 
want me."

"Always," he whispers. "Is Frohike okay?"

"He's been up a couple times. He was worried about you." I 
rub his chest gently. He sighs.

Susanne looks over at me. "Frohike will be fine," she says 
to him, squeezing his hand back. "He's been doing much 
better the past day or two. He's as grumpy as ever."

He nods, but he's too tired to talk now. Susanne strokes 
his face with the back of her fingers and John starts to 
relax. His breathing slows back down to normal after a 
couple of minutes.

"I need to go use the bathroom," I whisper to her. I don't 
want to wake John up. She just nods.

When I come out of the bathroom, Frohike's waiting there, 
leaning on the wall.

"Are you okay, Frohike? Do you need some help in there or 
something?"

He shakes his head. "No, I want to talk to you." He grabs 
my wrist and leads me toward the living room. "Mata Hari'll 
be busy with Byers for a while now that you're out of 
there."

I look back at the door to John's room as Frohike drags me 
away, and stumble over him when he stops in front of the 
couch.

"You big oaf," he grumbles. "Sit here." 

I sit and he sits down next to me. "There are a few things 
you need to understand."

"Well, like what?" I look down at him.

"These two, they've never actually had a chance to talk to 
each other."

"They were just talking now."

He snorts. "Yeah, maybe, but I'll bet she wasn't happy with 
what she was hearing, was she?"

"Not really, I guess." She was pretty upset about me and 
John, and I really think she was unhappy when John said he 
wanted both of us. I could just feel it coming off her in 
waves.

He looks up at me and grabs my sleeve. "That's just the 
beginning of it, kid. Byers has no clue about what kind of 
a person Susanne is, and she's got even less of a clue 
about him. They both have this fantasy world built up 
around each other, and that probably doesn't even match 
either. I doubt she's gonna be able to handle the fact that 
Byers is in love with another guy -- she's been freaking 
since she figured it out."

I've certainly seen that so far. "She was pretty upset in 
there."

"What the hell did Byers say? I'm not sure I really want to 
know, but I probably should so I can dodge the fallout."

"He said he loves both of us, and wants both of us."

Frohike's eyes get wide. "He said what?"

I shrug. I know he heard me.

"Oh, man. I can't believe he actually said that."

"She said that she could almost understand it if he was 
seeing another woman, but..." I choke up. I want John to be 
happy, but I don't think any of us would be if she has that 
attitude about him being with another man.

"For what it's worth, I think that's why she won't stay."

"I think she's gonna keep trying to get me to leave," I 
tell him.

He looks up at me. "You were expecting anything else?"

I take a deep breath. "If John asked me to leave, if that 
would make him happy, I'd do it." I can't help but shudder 
when I say it. He just asked me not to leave him. Why would 
he ask me to leave now?

Unless he loves her enough to send me away if she wants to 
be alone with him.

I close my eyes and bury my face in my hands.

" I don't think you're gonna have worry to about it. Trust 
me, she's not sticking around."

I look back up at Frohike. "How do you know that?"

"Their whole relationship is about their fantasy. Right 
now, reality's giving them a serious kick in the ass. It's 
just not gonna happen."

"You don't think so? I mean, he's changed a lot since you 
guys got so sick. He even told me he loves me. He never did 
that before. You know he doesn't talk about that kind of 
stuff."

Frohike huffs again and shakes his head. "I know, but at 
least that was in him to start with. Weird as it sounds, 
even the idea of wanting to be with a guy and a woman at 
the same time was probably in there somewhere all along, 
but I never thought he'd admit it to himself, much less out 
loud to somebody else." He plays with the TV remote. 
"Suddenly going straight isn't in him. He tried for years. 
It never worked. The best he could manage was celibate and 
obsessing about Mata Hari, trying to fool himself into 
thinking it meant he wasn't interested in guys anymore."

"How do you know?" I'm pretty sure John's never talked 
about any of this with Frohike before. "If he's never said 
anything, why would you even think that?"

"You think we don't check up on each other? We knew about 
some of the trysts he's had. He's never been quite as good 
as Langly at covering his tracks. He was seeing a guy for a 
few months about a year after we all got together. He tried 
to keep it totally under the radar, but ... well..."

I'm shocked. "You... you followed him?"

"Yeah."

I glare at him.

"Hey, somebody had to! Langly and I didn't know what was 
happening. For all we knew, this guy could have been trying 
to pump him for information, or blackmail him about 
Baltimore and the FCC, or ... or anything!" He's angry that 
I'm upset with him. "We were covering all our asses."

I guess if they thought this guy might hurt John, I can 
understand why they'd follow him. Frohike always says they 
don't hug, but I know they all care about each other a lot. 
The guys would just be broken if one of them got hurt and 
the others weren't able to help. And me... I don't even 
want to think about what it was like while I thought they 
were all dead. I wish I could rip that out of my brain and 
burn it.

"She's... she's not trustworthy, Jimmy. She worked for Them 
for too long. We haven't got any idea what They might have 
done to her. She might have been... programmed or something 
to find us and expose us to the shadow government. She 
might believe she loves Byers, but that could just be some 
chemical creation, something to delude her, just like that 
mind control shit she was mixing up for the black ops 
poobahs. With her, nothing is as it seems. Langly and I 
can't trust her, and Byers is totally blind here because 
he's thinking with his dick."

This pisses me off. "So why would she save your lives if 
she's supposed to... do evil stuff? Why would she stay with 
you guys and work so hard to keep you alive? Why would she 
have Mulder come and get you out of that CDC place? Don't 
you even appreciate what she did for you when she saved 
your lives?"

Frohike's forehead is all wrinkled up, and his mouth is 
crooked, like he's not sure what to think. "How do we know 
she isn't trying to give us to the government and find 
Mulder for them at the same time? How do we know she's not 
trying to 'save' us to make us government guinea pigs for 
medical experiments? How can we be sure that she's telling 
us the truth about anything?"

"Why can't you just even try to trust her?"

He makes a huge sigh. "I can't. Langly can't. If Byers 
wasn't thinking with his dick, he wouldn't either. Why the 
hell do you keep defending her, anyway? She's trying to 
shove you out of his life."

I'm losing it here. My eyes are getting all watery and I 
can't help it anymore. "Because she saved your lives. 
Because she saved John! Do you have any idea how hard it 
was for me when I thought you guys were dead?"

He just looks at me. I can't stop.

"I wanted to die! I didn't care about anything anymore. The 
only reason I'm still alive right now is because Yves kept 
reminding me that I'd promised John I wouldn't give up, 
that I'd keep fighting the fights you guys would have 
fought. I couldn't break that promise for anything." My 
voice breaks and I just let the sobs come. I've been 
holding it all in, trying not to get anybody upset, trying 
to do everything I could to help John while I've been here.

"I've never been as good as you guys, and I know it. I 
never will be. I know I'm not as smart as you. I don't need 
you to remind me about it, either. But while I was working 
with you, I felt like I could make a difference. I felt 
like somebody cared about me, and John did. After you guys 
d..." I can hardly keep going, but I have to, "... 
after...Yves and Kimmy are the ones who were really doing 
the work. I was just walking around doing what they told 
me. I was hollow, Frohike. There wasn't anything left 
inside me. When I thought you were all dead, I was dead 
too."

I'm getting really freaked out. This is just way too much 
to handle. "When I found out that he... all of you... oh 
god, I can't lose you guys again. I can't lose John again. 
No matter what anybody says about Susanne, she gave you 
guys back to me, and I have to believe in her. I have to 
believe that she's a good person."

Frohike says, "Hey, hey. Chill out, dude. We're okay. 
Nobody's going anywhere."

The next thing I know, Langly and Mulder are here too.

"What the hell is going on?" Langly asks.

"Can't a guy get his beauty sleep around here?" Mulder 
says.

"He's freaking out," Frohike tells them.

"And this is a surprise because...?" Mulder asks. He sits 
down next to me on the other side. "Take it easy, Jimmy."

Langly sits on the coffee table in front of me. "Hey dude, 
everything's gonna be okay. We're all fine. Byers is gonna 
get better, you know that."

The three of them talk to me for a long time, and finally I 
start to calm down. Frohike tells them about what John 
said, and what I told him, and they're all talking real 
quiet and soft around me. 

Langly finally says, "I guess I can see where you're coming 
from about Susanne. I mean, it's not like I'm ungrateful 
that she saved our lives or anything, but ... well, we're 
all kinda scared here. We don't know how long it'll take 
before we're back to our old selves again -- if we ever get 
there. We don't know what we're going to do, or how we're 
gonna keep a roof over our heads and have anything to eat 
once we're functional again. We don't know if this is gonna 
come back and kill us later, dude. Or whether Yves' dad is 
gonna find us and have us shot or turn us into science 
experiments. We don't know if other people can catch it 
from us, or if so, how."

He looks me in the eyes. "I mean, what if you and Byers get 
all hot and heavy together, and he gives this to you? It's 
a virus, right? What if it's sexually transmitted and you 
become a carrier if you survive it?"

I never thought of that.

"It was originally airborne," Mulder says. "Why would that 
change?"

"Ever heard of mutation, dude?" Langly asks him.

We're all silent for a long time.

"It hasn't mutated," Susanne says. 

We all jump and look up at her. 

"I've been keeping a close eye on it for precisely those 
kinds of changes. It's still an airborne virus, and only 
viable for about three weeks during the contagious phase."

"You're sure?" Mulder says.

"I wouldn't have let them out of level 5 containment if 
they were still contagious. I don't have a death wish."

"Is John okay?" I ask her.

She sighs. "He's sleeping. He needs a lot of rest, but I 
think he's going to be all right. He seems to be through 
the fever and chills. I think the virus may finally have 
burned itself out of his system." She holds up a tube with 
some blood in it. "I have to run a few tests, but if John 
is finally clear like Langly and Frohike are, then he 
should recover without any more complications as long as he 
doesn't stress or exhaust himself enough to further damage 
his immune system."

She turns to go down to the lab in the basement.

"Susanne, wait." I need to ask her.

She turns back and looks at me. She takes a deep breath. 
"When he's well enough that he no longer needs my medical 
care, I'll be leaving." Her eyes fill with tears and she 
walks away.

I get up and follow her. The guys don't try to stop me, or 
to follow us. When we get into the basement, she stops and 
looks at me. "What? Isn't that what you want?"

"I want John to be happy."

Her face tightens. "I know. So do I. But I want to be happy 
too, and I don't think that can happen for me now. Not with 
John and the situation as it is."

"Are... are you going to be okay?"

"Eventually."

"Talk to me," I ask.

"I don't think bisexuality is a pathology," she says.

"What does that mean?" I ask.

"It means I don't think being bisexual is sick. I think 
it's confused, but I don't think it's sick."

"Oh." I guess she doesn't think John and I are perverts, 
then.

 "Being in love with a bisexual isn't going to work for me. 
And I can't take the idea that he's in love with ... with 
both of us. There's just too much old fashioned 
conservatism in me for that. I can't do it. I can't live a 
life like that, and if I tried, it wouldn't be fair to me, 
or to John. I need the stability of a man who can love just 
me, a man who wants a normal family and a normal life."

I think her attitude is weird, thinking that me and John 
are confused or something, and I'm not even sure what 
'normal' is supposed to mean anymore. John is John, no 
matter who he loves. It shouldn't matter who he's attracted 
to, though I do understand her wanting him for herself. If 
he loves her, and she says she loves him, why would it 
matter that he's able to love a guy too? I mean, it doesn't 
make him a bad person, or unfaithful, or more risky to be 
with. It sure doesn't make him confused. John's the most 
faithful, honorable man I've ever met, and one of the most 
loving people I've ever known, even if he isn't able to 
talk about it much. He's always been real careful about all 
the safe sex stuff, and he always insisted that both of us 
keep up with screening for diseases, just in case. But you 
can't control somebody else's attitude, even if it's a 
hurtful one. Maybe especially if it's a hurtful one.

"He's loved you for a long time, Susanne; way longer than 
he's known me. It's not like he never noticed you were a 
girl. And I've always been scared that he wouldn't want to 
stay with me if he ever found you again. I felt like I 
couldn't give him what he really wanted because I'm not a 
woman." I think this is what John calls 'ironing.'

"And I've loved him, Jimmy. But there's obviously a lot 
about John that I never knew." She takes the blood tube 
over to some lab equipment and starts doing stuff with it. 
"I love him dearly and would never want to hurt him, but 
let's face it: I've been in love with someone that never 
existed. Maybe... maybe if we'd been able to be together 
during all these years, if I'd known from the beginning, I 
could have come to accept this about him, but I've spent 
far too much time seeing him as something he never was. I 
can't change him. I wouldn't even try."
 
SIX WEEKS LATER

Susanne finally left about a week ago. She and John had 
some really long talks, and he seems okay with the 
situation. He acts relieved that he didn't have to choose 
between us or ask one of us to leave him, and that she 
decided to go on her own, without some kind of fight. He's 
sad, but he said it was for the best in the end.

"I could never have been the man she wanted," he said. "I 
would have tried, but ultimately we would have failed. It 
would have left both of us feeling angry and inadequate."

Frohike and Langly and Mulder were all really happy to see 
her go. That didn't surprise me.

All the guys are much healthier now. Langly's pretty much 
back to normal, though it's taking longer for John and 
Frohike. They're both looking way better; a little tired 
still but able to do most of the things they could before. 
It won't be too much longer before they're ready to think 
about how to get their lives back. We're all talking about 
what we want to do and where we want to go next.

The guys are all sniping at each other again, and it makes 
me happy to watch them argue about stuff like they used to. 
It's almost like being home again.

This morning, we found a note on the kitchen table. It was 
from Yves. It said, "Pleased to finally observe your 
recovery. Am looking forward to your return, no matter how 
annoying or mismanaged. Will strangle Kimmy in honor of 
your arrival."

Mulder was a little upset, but did agree with Frohike that 
if Yves' father hadn't found us yet, we were probably still 
safe, despite the fact that she knew where we were. When 
John read the note, he laughed so hard that tears were 
running down his face.

John's been doing and talking about a lot of things he 
never has before. He really has changed. I mean, he's not a 
different person, he's just able to let himself be more 
himself now. He's not afraid to let himself feel things and 
do things that he was nervous about or would try to keep 
hidden before. He's not afraid to kiss me or give me a hug 
in front of the guys or Mulder anymore, and that makes me 
feel so good. He laughs and smiles a lot more. It's still 
hard for him to talk about how he feels, but he's been 
working on it. 

Mulder and the guys are inside watching Barbarella. John 
and I are sitting out in the yard under a tree in the sun. 
The weather's warm with afternoon Indian Summer heat, and 
the leaves are turning colors and starting to fall. It's 
really beautiful here in Vermont in mid-September. More so 
with John next to me. He's wearing faded jeans and a blue 
t-shirt almost the same color as his eyes. He looks so 
good; his weight is back to normal, and his clothes finally 
fit him right again. He's eating an apple from one of the 
trees nearby, and offers me a bite. It's sweet and juicy, 
and when some of the juice runs down my chin, he leans over 
and licks it off. We kiss, sweet as the apple we're eating.

We were able to make love again for the first time a few 
days ago. I can still feel it, still see it in my mind as 
though we're in bed together. His kiss brings it all back, 
like it's still happening.

John woke me in the middle of the night, touching me 
everywhere, kissing my neck and shoulders. I was already 
hard by the time I realized what was going on. His hands 
were soft and strong on my skin, and he was naked and 
beautiful in the moonlight, the covers down around his 
hips. I knew what he wanted. I wanted it too. I'd been 
waiting so long for it. I could hardly wait to feel him 
inside me again. I needed him to fill me and fuck me hard 
and deep.

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" I asked. He just 
kissed me hard, and I wrapped my arms around him. We were 
panting when we broke the kiss.

"More than you can imagine," he said. He pressed his body 
against me, weighing me down, and I could feel how hard he 
was. I was so excited and turned on. I let my hands move 
over his body and he kissed me again, deep and wild. It had 
been so long since we'd done this, and I don't think he'd 
ever kissed me quite that way before. There was so much 
passion in it I thought he might burn me to ashes, but I 
needed it so bad. I took his cock in my hand and stroked 
him, and he moaned in my mouth. I could feel his beard on 
my lips, the soft hair tickling as his tongue moved against 
mine. I squeezed and pulled on his nipples with my other 
hand, and it made him moan again, deeper this time.

I shifted my weight so that I could turn to suck him. I 
wanted his hardness in my mouth, the salt taste of him on 
my tongue. As I took him in, he began to suck me as well. 
It wasn't like he'd never done it before, but he hadn't 
done it often. I almost came right then. His tongue was so 
hot and he sucked me hard and took me in deep. We were both 
moaning. Neither of us said anything. I think words would 
have made everything more complicated. 

He circled the head of my cock with his tongue, then 
started nibbling on it, stroking me hard and playing with 
my balls while he nipped. It was so intense that I had to 
stop sucking him. I was afraid I'd bite him and hurt him if 
I kept him in my mouth. After a couple of minutes, he 
stopped, which was good, because I didn't want to come that 
fast. Then he started kissing and nibbling and licking his 
way up my stomach while his hands stroked the insides of my 
thighs and played with my ass. It was delicious. I could 
hardly breathe, it felt so wonderful. Sleeping curled up 
with him for the past six weeks had been a miracle, but 
this was a million times better. By the time he started 
sucking my nipples, I figured god probably never felt so 
good.

As he lay on top of me, face to face, he kissed me again, 
then said, "Jimmy, I want... I want to have you in me 
tonight. I want you to fuck me."

I just looked at him for a minute. My chest was heaving 
from what he'd been doing to me, but I was really surprised 
about that. He'd always been the one who did that to me. 
But he'd asked me to be inside him -- a thing we'd never 
done before. I couldn't believe he asked me. 

"I... Johnny, are you sure? Have you ever done that with 
anyone before?"

He kissed me again. It totally scrambled my brain, and the 
idea of being inside him was making me hotter than I think 
I'd ever felt before in my life. "No," he said, "but I want 
it. I want it to be you. I need it so much right now."

I could hardly talk, but I had to make sure he was going to 
be okay with it. "Why?" I asked. "I mean, why now? If 
you've never done it before, why do you want it?" My cock 
was throbbing. I was surprised he couldn't feel it pounding 
against his hip with the force of how much I wanted him.

He blushed. "I've wanted it before," he said, "but... but I 
was always afraid to try it. I was afraid of the pain. I 
was ... I didn't want to feel that vulnerable, didn't want 
anyone to have that much control over my body."

I kissed him soft and gentle, stroking his body slowly, 
caressing the cheeks of his ass. I wanted that. I wanted 
him. "I don't want to hurt you," I told him. I let my 
fingers slide down the crack of his ass and brush over his 
opening like feathers. Just touching him like that, I could 
almost imagine how it would feel to slide my cock into him. 
He'd be so tight... I had to bite my lip to keep from 
coming just from the thought.

He shuddered and hissed, and whispered, "Yes, god Jimmy, 
like that." 

"You're sure you want me to do this?" I rubbed his opening 
with my fingers, pressing just a tiny bit harder than I was 
before. His skin there was so soft. He wrapped his arms and 
legs around me and clung to me, shuddering and moaning.

"Yes! Please, Jimmy." His voice was pleading and needy. I'd 
never heard him like that when we made love before.

I loved how he felt, his body so close to me, but we'd to 
have to change positions if this was going to work. And he 
needed time to get ready for it. I'd have to take it real 
slow with him, and I wasn't sure I could manage it. I knew 
he needed me to be gentle, but I was so excited I wanted to 
take him right then, wanted to thrust into him so deep that 
I could feel his balls rubbing against mine. I couldn't, 
though. I knew it would hurt him. That would have to wait 
for another time, after he was used to the feeling and 
wanted more.

"I need to have this," he said, panting. "I've felt... dead 
for so long. I need to know I'm alive. I need to know 
you're really here. I need... god, I don't care if it 
hurts, I need you."

"Okay." I kissed him hard. "We'll need to move."

He rolled onto his back, eager and excited. His cock was 
dark and hot as I stroked him, running my hand over his 
balls and down between his legs to touch his hole. He 
wasn't where I would want him when he was ready for me to 
enter him, but I had other ideas to help him relax first. I 
leaned down and nibbled on his ear, and he giggled. John 
doesn't giggle much, but it was so good to hear it coming 
from him. When I blew in his ear, he gasped and shuddered, 
his cock leaping in my hand.

I slid down his body, taking my time as I kissed and nipped 
at his skin. Since I knew I couldn't do this fast, it was 
best to go as slow as I could. I hoped it would help me 
last long enough to give John what he wanted. He was 
moaning and panting, eyes closed. His mouth was open and he 
looked so hot and so beautiful. I kept circling his opening 
with my fingers as I moved, sometimes passing my fingers 
over it and pressing a little. He moaned and whimpered and 
begged me for more, but he was nowhere near ready for me to 
even slide a finger in yet.

I licked the shaft of his cock as I slid down further. I 
could feel the heat coming off him like he was on fire. 
There was a fine thread of pre-come leaking from the tip of 
his cock down into his hair. He smelled like musk and heat 
and sex, and it made my heart pound. I played with his 
balls with my lips and tongue as I kept caressing his 
opening with my fingers.

"Please, Jimmy," he begged, "please. I want you... god, 
take me please!"

"You're not ready yet," I told him. "You need to relax. You 
need to breathe, Johnny."

His breath shuddered and he tried to breathe slower, but it 
was hard for him. "Don't tease me, Jimmy," he gasped. He 
pressed his ass up against my fingers, but they weren't 
lubed yet. There was no way anything was going in him dry. 
I let him feel the pressure, but wouldn't let him take my 
fingers into him. Even if he said he didn't care if it 
hurt, I knew he would when it came right down to it. I 
wasn't going to let him hurt any more than he had to for 
his first time.

I slid my tongue down the back of his balls and moved my 
fingers out of the way, letting the tip of my tongue circle 
his opening. He moaned and shivered as I kissed him there. 
His cock twitched in my hand as I licked him soft and slow, 
getting him wet, and he made the most incredible sound. It 
was a sob, but I knew it was from pleasure. It send a wild 
shiver down my spine into my cock. John laced his fingers 
into my hair and grabbed it tight. He was pulling too much.

"Easy," I told him. "Let go of my hair and just try to 
breathe and relax." He loosened his grip and kept trying to 
slow his breathing. I went back to licking the soft pucker 
of his ass and listening to him cry out. I let my tongue 
caress him and press into him soft and gentle as I stroked 
his cock.

After a few minutes, he finally started to relax, and I got 
some lube out. John was nearly in a trance by then, 
whispering and begging me to fuck him. Usually, I was the 
one begging him. It felt strange to me, hearing him say 
those things, but knowing that he trusted me enough to give 
himself to me like that was an amazing feeling. I wanted to 
make sure things stayed gentle while I stretched him 
slowly. He was still hard and throbbing, and so was I.

I let the lube warm up on my hands before I started rubbing 
it over his opening. As I spread it on him, I licked and 
sucked his cock. 

"Oh god oh god oh god..." he whimpered. "Fuck me, damn it!"

I slid my smallest finger into him, slow and careful. He 
groaned, deep and throaty. He was really tight at first, 
but he let it in. "More," he begged, though his teeth were 
gritted together.

"Am I hurting you?" 

"Tight... it's tight," he said. It was a strain for him to 
talk. "I'm okay. Please, I want more."

I added more lube and moved my finger slowly in and out. He 
started to relax more with the slow penetration, and his 
breathing got easier. He pressed his ass against my hand, 
trying to take me in deeper. He was so gorgeous lying there 
in front of me, his legs spread for me, cock standing up 
hard and twitching. I bent to suck him and he shouted as I 
took his cock in my mouth and slid my finger into him 
further. I figured by then the other guys were awake, but I 
sure didn't care, and it didn't look like John did either. 
I wasn't about to stop for anything.

I pulled my finger out of him carefully. Sometimes 
something coming out suddenly can hurt almost as much as 
something going in, if you're not ready for it. John's eyes 
snapped open and he looked at me.

"Don't stop!" His voice was desperate.

I slid my middle finger up to his opening. "I'm not 
stopping, Johnny, believe me. Relax now. This is gonna be a 
little bigger." I slid up his body and kissed him deep as I 
slid my finger inside him. He moaned into my mouth and 
wrapped his body around me. My cock was pressed between my 
body and his hip, and I thrust against him in time with my 
finger in his ass. I wanted him so bad. Waiting was driving 
me totally nuts. I wanted to give him everything he asked 
for. I wanted to fuck him hard and deep and make him come 
screaming my name. I slowly slid a second finger in with 
the first, and he gasped.

"Hurts," he said.

I stopped moving. "Do you want me to stop? Do you want me 
to pull out of you?"

He whimpered. "No, no, don't stop. Stay in me. I don't care 
if it hurts. I want you."

"Slow breaths," I told him. "Try to let go of the tightness 
and just breathe. It'll feel better if you can relax." I 
could imagine the tightness of his ass gripping my cock as 
it gripped my fingers, and thrust against him harder. I 
didn't know if I would last until I could get inside him. I 
caressed his cock with my thumb while I slowly stretched 
him out with my fingers and he began to loosen up again. I 
stopped rubbing my cock against him, not wanting to come 
yet. I had to be inside him first, and it was going to be a 
few more minutes before I could do that.

"Don't stop touching me," he whispered. "I can't get enough 
of you. I want you so much."

The sound of his voice was just too much for me, as he 
writhed against me. He sounded like not having me in him 
was more painful than anything I might do if I entered him. 
I had to have him then, just as he was. I wanted him to be 
more ready for it, but I couldn't stand not being in him. 
"Roll on your side," I gasped, easing my fingers out of 
him. 

As he rolled over, I lubed my cock and used my fingers to 
get more lube inside his body. He would need it, even 
though this was the gentlest position I knew for this kind 
of sex. It would take any stress off his hips and would 
keep from putting any strain on his opening from having his 
legs spread and his muscles tight. I rubbed more lube on my 
cock until it was dripping, then slid down behind him.

"God, fuck me," he begged again. I'd never seen him so 
needy and desperate. My cock was throbbing so hard I 
thought it would burst open.

I pulled him to me and slid my cock up to his hole, just 
letting the head of it rest there, touching him for a 
minute. "I'm not sure you're ready yet, John." I was hardly 
able to breathe from the sensation. "Take a deep breath in, 
then let it out real slow."

As he let out the breath, I entered him, slow and gentle. 
He reached up and grabbed the headboard of the bed and 
howled. "Oh, god, Jimmy! God! More... please, more!" 

His knuckles were white, he was holding the bed so hard, 
but his pleading pushed me over the edge. I couldn't 
control myself any longer, and I thrust into him hard and 
deep. John started screaming and bucking against me, taking 
me in deeper even as he was crying out in pain. I started 
fucking him fast, my arms around his chest and hips to hold 
us close so I could get deeper into him.

"Yes!" he was screaming. "Fuck me! Oh, god! God, Jimmy, I 
love you..."

I could feel his need in the way he moved, in the sound of 
his voice. I was shouting too, but none of it was words. I 
felt him come as I buried myself in him, our balls slapping 
together as we struggled. Sweat was pouring off his body, 
and he was slick and hot. I'd never felt him come that hard 
before. He was so tight around my cock as his body slumped, 
exhausted. I shifted and rolled us over, putting my weight 
on my elbows as I lay on his back, fucking him harder. He 
moaned in time with my thrusts as I pounded into him. God, 
he felt so good, and I knew I was about to come too.

I buried my face in his shoulder and screamed when I came. 
I'd been wanting to have him like that for so long, and 
never thought it would happen. Coming inside him was so 
intense, I wished it never had to stop, but no matter how 
good it is, it always does. After I took a minute to catch 
my breath, I pulled out of him as gently as I could. I 
helped him roll onto his back. There were tears running 
down his face as he gasped for breath.

"Johnny, are you okay?" I held him carefully.

He shook his head, still panting for breath.

"Oh, god, I hurt you."

"Hurt, but... but..."

He still couldn't catch his breath. I wanted to check and 
see if I'd done any damage to him, see if he was bleeding, 
but I didn't dare move him yet. He was shuddering, and held 
me close, his whole body shaking.

"John..."

"I'm okay," he said. "God, oh god, I needed that."

"You're hurt."

"Burns," he said, "but it'll stop... it'll stop..." He 
pulled me to him and kissed me. "Hold me," he asked.

I wrapped his body in my arms, worried. "Let me see if 
you're hurt, John."

"Not yet," he said. "Still hurts too much to touch. I'll be 
okay."

It was about fifteen minutes before he'd let me touch him 
to see if he'd been hurt, but there was no sign of any 
damage or bleeding. We'd used enough lube to keep 
everything slippery. As we lay together, slowly falling 
back to sleep, I told him, "You're probably gonna have some 
trouble walking tomorrow morning. Remember to take it easy 
when we get up."

He nodded. "I will, don't worry." He turned to me and 
looked into my eyes. "I love you, Jimmy. I... thank you. I 
needed that so much."

"We both did, believe me. John, I love you so much. I'm so 
lucky to have you back." We held each other tight. I could 
feel my tears coming, but they were happy tears this time.

When we got up the next morning, I expected the guys to 
give us a huge hassle, but Mulder was the only one who said 
anything.

"Next time, try a ball gag," Mulder said. He patted John on 
the back, then grinned and walked away.

The sound of John's voice pulls me back to the present, and 
I feel so much love for him when I look at him.

"Do you remember the look on her face when she saw you 
wearing that Elvis wig?" he asks, a huge grin on his face. 
We've been talking about Yves.

"I don't think she liked it much. Then again, neither did 
Langly."

He laughs. "I think it reminded Langly too much of the 
sting of defeat, but Yves was just... appalled. I thought 
her eyes were going to roll out of their sockets."

I laugh too. She really did look shocked. "She never got to 
hear me sing 'Hound Dog.'"

"Oh, let's not even go there!"

I grin at him and start singing in my best Elvis voice. 
"You ain't nothin' but a hound dog..."

"Noooooo!" he howls.

We both laugh and he tosses the apple core away. 

"Hey, I thought I was pretty good."

He looks over his shoulder at the house, where we can hear 
the guys laughing at the movie, then back at me. He 
whispers, "Don't tell anybody I said so, but yeah, you 
were." He turns and gives me a hug.

"God, I love you," he says.

My heart swells up in my chest like a basketball. I'm so 
lucky to have him. "I love you too."

We kiss again, and roll together on the grass in the 
falling leaves.

~end~