Behind the Mirror

Daniel Schreber

When it was real, truly real, when I was back - I found I couldn't hold it together anymore. My poor confused lover found himself clung to in a death grip as I unabashedly bawled my eyes out in a mix of overwhelming joy and relief at being whole again, mixed with the strange feeling of emptiness at leaving Ben. John was understandably worried, so... I told him everything, as simply and completely as I could... and then levitated a pebble for proof.

He believed me, or seemed to, for the most part. After all we had been through, it wasn't a huge stretch. He did suggest the possibility that the entire thing had been some strange reaction to the chemicals our brains had been shot full of during the Strangers reign, but I wasn't so sure. It had felt real, at times horrifically so. I had watched him grow old, watched him die. And I could tune now... not like he could, of course, but that would come with time and practice.

We went back to our house in Shell Beach, which was as warm and beautiful as it had always been, and I was hard pressed not to weep at the overwhelming joy of finally coming home. We made love, frantic and needy, curling in bed afterward and talking for ages, and I loved him more than ever that he simply accepted my neediness without question, holding me close and letting me drink in the affection that I thought I'd lost for good. When we made love again later in the day, it was sweet and tender and intense, and I revelled in the joy of the knowledge that this would be forever.

It was with a strange sense of anxiety that I stood in front of the bathroom mirror at five minutes to nine pm, gazing at my own reflection. There had been no sign of Ben since I'd come back, and the realistic part of me tried to tell myself that there was no way that there could be any connection left between his world and mine.

Nine pm came and went, but the mirror and my reflection stayed unchanged. I waited five minutes, then ten, slowly losing hope. At fifteen, John came to stand in the bathroom doorway, reaching out to stroke my back gently. "Nothing?"

"Nothing," I echoed softly, and reached out to press my palm against the mirror with a soft sigh. That was the end of it... he was gone. I stepped back and turned to give John a brave smile. "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps it simply was some strange imprint....

John, however, didn't answer, staring at the mirror in amazement. "Love... look."

I turned back. My hand had left a faint smudge on the glass, just visible in the bathroom light. Beside that, however, growing clearer by the second, was a second hand print, sharply defined, and I could just see the break in his skin of his scar. I felt my heart skip a beat. "It's him."

"Steam," John said quickly, pushing past me into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him, turning the shower on hot. After a second he laughed, turning it off again, and clouded the mirror the easy way with an idle hand motion.

The letters came immediately, appearing stroke by stroke on the glass. *Daniel?*

*I'm here,* I wrote quickly, smiling at John as he handed me a pen with a small piece of felt on the end that proved much neater and easier than using a fingertip.

*Regular mirror no go,* had appeared on the mirror. *I enlarged the Mayflower shard. You ok?*

*I'm so good,* I wrote back, heart beating fast. *So happy to see you. Are you ok?*

*Sex is great,* came in reply, and I laughed, delighted.

"So it was real, then," my lover said softly behind me, and I turned back to him with a warm smile.

"It seems so."

"And this is another version of you. The one you had sex with?"

I flushed darkly. "I am sorry, John, I...."

"Hush," he said softly, cutting me off with a warm kiss. Then he took the pen from me with a smirk. My name had appeared on the mirror again, questioning, and he wrote in reply, *This is John. Pls come visit. Would like 2nd Daniel."

"John!" I gasped, feeling my cheeks burn.

"What?" His smile was the picture of innocence. "I didn't say it was for sex."

I laughed, shaking my head, somehow entirely not surprised. He was, as always, my John.

*Find a way,* came the reply. *Larry says we will come + play.*

*I did not, pervert,* came a reply almost immediately after, in different handwriting.

We wrote so long that John had to wipe and re-fog the mirror numerous times. Finally, when my hand began to ache from writing at the strange angle, we promised a time to write again. His hand print appeared on the glass again, and mine fit into it perfectly.

*Goodnight sweet Daniel,* came the words, and I smiled.

*Goodnight, my dear Ben.*

John had left the conversation a few minutes earlier, and was lounging in bed, watching me with a little smile. I crawled up into his arms, catching his mouth for a warm, lingering kiss. "Thank you, John."

He gave a soft, appreciative chuckle against my mouth. "Thank you?"

"For... understanding."

He grinned, pulling the blankets around us and curling against me. "Don't thank me yet. I'm really tempted to try and find a way through."

I gave a soft laugh, watching him curiously. "Really?"

"Mmm." His fingertips traced over my face, one tapping my bottom lip playfully. "I wasn't kidding about the twins fantasy."

I closed my eyes. "Oh god...."

"You can't tell me you wouldn't say the same thing about me. You'd totally watch me make out with myself."

I buried my head in his chest with a little helpless moan, cheeks burning. "You're terrible...."

"Or you could join in, you know. Two of me doing so many nice things to you...."

The idea, I had to admit, had its merits, but I held firm. "Two of you to torture me, you mean."

He grinned, squirming to rid me of my hiding place, kissing me warmly. "Can I help it if you're so irresistible when you blush?"


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~FINISH~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


So, I couldn't resist some Mirrors slash at the end, some cuddle time with my OTP from Dark City, and most of all to give Ben a happy ending. Because really, he deserves it. :D

Kudos to anyone who read all the way through, I hope you enjoyed the crack and porn. Thanks for reading!