Journey

Tarot - Death


Revelation


When John wakes up, he is in a bed with crisp white linens, white walls, white blinds. There are electrodes attached to his chest, a needle in his arm, and he removes both without a second thought, climbing out of bed, getting rid of the hospital gown and pulling on his clothes, which are neatly folded on a chair beside the bed. He rubs his temples against a pounding headache, trying to go over in his mind what had happened.

"Mr. Murdoch?" A nurse, just coming in the door. "You shouldn't be up, you've been out for two days...."

"Where's Daniel?" He interrupts, trying again at her blank look. "Daniel Schreber. The man I was with. The blonde man with the the scarred eye. I need to see him."

Sudden recognition. "Oh - he's all right, he's at the end of the hall, but you can't... Mr. Murdoch!"

He pushes past her without waiting for her to finish, striding quickly down the hallway, outdistancing the sound of her footsteps as she chases after him. He finds the room he is looking for after a few false guesses, and shuts the door behind him, locking it with a touch of concentration that makes his pounding headache explode into a shower of pain. He gropes for a chair, sitting down weakly, blinded for a moment by the searing pain. "Oh, god..."

"... John?" The softest voice pulls him from his pain, and he looks up at the bed to find the blue eyes of his friend.

He manages to get to his feet, moving to the bed, watching him silently for a moment before reaching a hand out to tentatively touch the side of his face, fingers ghosting over his skin, over the oxygen tubing taped under his nose. "How are you feeling?"

Daniel draws a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly. "Well... I can breathe more easily than I have in a very long time. But other than that... a bit like death warmed over." He looks up at John, eyes serious. "That creature was one of Them, wasn't it? John... I felt, I saw the knife in my chest...."

John gives a slow nod, emotions in turmoil, trying to figure out how he should broach the subject that his mind can't move away from. "I... healed you."

The doctor's eyebrows knit slightly. "Why...?"

John closes his eyes for a moment against a shudder of anger, disappointment at himself that Daniel would even question it. He lets out a deep breath, then finds Daniel's hand amongst the sheets, covering it with his own. "You were right about the city. I'm sorry. I was running away from what I am. I'm just..." He stops, and shakes his head, not knowing how to express himself. "I didn't mean to fight with you. I'm sorry."

Daniel watches John's hand silently, then turns his own over and slowly twines their fingers together. "I didn't mean to push you, John. The truth is, I feel very responsible for this mess, because of what I've done... but I shouldn't project that on you. I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "No, you...." He sighs, and tries again. "I wasn't prepared for how I would feel... when I saw you there with the knife in your chest."

Daniel gives a soft, weary smile, ever the psychiatrist. "How did it make you feel?"

Green eyes meet Daniel's blue ones, searching them, needing him to understand. "I didn't want to go on without you."

"Anything I have is yours," the doctor replies, his voice soft, fingers squeezing John's weakly.

John looks down at their hands, silent for a long moment. "Just... tell me you'll let me stay with you...."

The doctor nods slowly, a little wearily. "I'd never turn you away, John. You know that. What is it that you really want?"

Hesitation. "What I want isn't something that can't be asked for, only earned, my friend."

"Perhaps you've already earned it," Daniel replies softly, evenly. "Try me."

John thinks about the million things he could say, but in the end, he jumps into it head first, tearing his eyes from Daniel's, unable to bring himself to witness Daniel's rejection. "I know this sounds crazy, and I'm... a man, but... I think I'm in love with you."

There is silence, and then a soft squeeze of Daniel's fingers, pulling back his gaze to him. Surprise in his blue eyes, and gratitude, and growing wonder. "John..." he replies, softly," ... my heart is already yours. My heart has been yours for a very long time."

For a moment, John can't find the words, can't find anything to say, his heart painfully tight in his chest, and he almost forgets to breathe. Then he leans over the bed to kiss him, warm and lingering, feeling Daniel's other hand moving up to stroke through his curls, cup the back of his head. And he knows that this will change everything but at the same time, with Daniel by his side, maybe it won't be so frightening after all.