Dreams of Darkness and Light

John spent several days a home in the apartment, brooding, no desire to go out into the city, to go anywhere alone The pleasant dreams were gone now, replaced with nightmares, horrible imagery and pain that made him want nothing more than to go to Daniel to be assured that he was all right. But he resisted, though it made him miserable. He wasn’t sure exactly what had happened between them that day in Daniel’s office, but he had been rejected. Daniel didn’t believe him.

Finally he decided he needed answers, and went out into the underground of the city, back to look for his file.
He attacked the Stranger’s archives like a madman, going through each filing cabinet, searching for answers. He found Rachel’s file, but there was no mention of him in it, only Anna. Finally, several days and several paper cuts later, he admitted defeat. If his file was still in existence, it wasn’t there.

The next possibility, then, was what Daniel had relayed. Another storage room, hidden, for sensitive files. Taking a lift, he slowly began to explore the underground domain, combing through the maze of tunnels and rooms, and tuning open new paths to hidden rooms when he found them. Finally, just when he’d given up for the day, he found it, almost by chance. A small tunnel opening on the way out lead to a dead end, but he Tuned an opening into the room beyond it, knowing that he’d found it a soon as he stepped off the lift.

It was much smaller here, much more clearly labelled. The biggest bank was for the dead, with poor Bumstead’s file sitting on top of the cabinet, never put away. He refrained from reading it, feeling it would be somehow disrespectful, and made a mental note to make the poor detective a beautiful tombstone somewhere, sometime.

He skipped the bank of files marked as dead, and started looking through the other small collections of files. He found his halfway through, his photo unmistakeable, shoved in the front of a drawer without filing, as if the caretaker was in a hurry. John pulled it out, Tuning a desk lamp into being and starting to leaf through. ‘Jason Walker, Subject #192’.

Last persona – John Murdoch. There were notes about his awakening, his Tuning, and then before that, the plans they’d had for the experiment. Prior to John, he was Frank Miller. The name meant nothing to him. John flipped through those quickly, knowing exactly what he was looking for at the back of the file.

When he reached it, however, there was nothing there. There was his personal information, his rating scale, of course. And names listed as his family that evoked no emotion. There was no mention of Anna, and most importantly, no mention of Daniel.

John closed the file slowly, setting it aside, and sat down on a solid metal riser beside the file cabinet. He couldn’t set aside the feeling that there must have been some truth to his dreams, some place for them to come from. He wondered if the Strangers would have even allowed the inclusion of information about their Doctor in his file, if Daniel’s information was so confidential. But perhaps if he found Daniel’s file....

This thought cheered him, and he set to work searching the files. Half an hour later, he still had no results. He’d gone through the regular file cabinets two or three times a piece, and even gone through the deceased bank, but Daniel’s file was nowhere to be found. He sat back down on the metal riser block, leaning against the file with a sigh. No files, no proof, no answers. Nothing to explain the way he was feeling the way he was.

Then he looked down, mind moving, sensing. The cube he was sitting on was not furniture at all, but more storage, entirely sealed from all sides. Heart beating, he stood, tuning the top of the box away.

Subject #50. Daniel Poe Schreber. He lifted the file with shaking hands, at first just staring down at the photo on the cover. Unlike the others, this was a magazine clipping, a blonde man in a fitted white lab coat, smiling. Daniel, like he was in his dreams. He opened the file to the first page eagerly. There was very little in the way of observations, just a few remarks here and there about how obedient he was during that time period, or was not, whether ‘disciplinary action’ was required. An injection recommendation for “no longer than every 28 cycles” to avoid the subject from becoming “difficult.”

Then there were pages, pages and pages of more magazine clippings. Articles, covers, photos, papers, written by Daniel and about Daniel, calling him gifted, a prodigy. Chronicles of discoveries in bio-chemical research, continual reference to a breakthrough treatment for something called “Alzheimers”, and many other things that John didn’t understand. And pictures of Daniel... young, happy. Whole.

He closed his eyes to it for a moment, only a little surprised at the ache in his chest as he thought about his friend. As much as he’d tried not to think about it... he missed Daniel, painfully. Steeling himself, he continued on.

His original persona information came last, and was much thicker than he remembered Anna’s being. There was another photo of him, alone, and the same formula ratings he saw on all the files. And there was that line again. “Subject suffers from sexual dysfunction. Adversely affected by subject #51. Recommend removing possibility of interaction whenever possible to prevent risk of deviant behaviour or control difficulties with subject.” He turned the page, reading on. The notes were extremely detailed, referring to a negotiation process, and John felt a cold lump of rage and disgust settle in the pit of his stomach, realizing that everything was just as Daniel had said. The first entry, the chronologically latest, noted the negotiations a success. That Subject #51 had been implanted and sent away with a fake file. That the doctor had been very cooperative, that the memory wipe had been successful. John flipped faster, suddenly not wanting to read.

And then without warning, he found what he was looking for. It was the same picture of him he’d found on the file for subject #192. Jason Walker. Subject #51. Long time companion of Subject #50. Very strong chance of deviant behaviour occurring. Acquired as leverage for negotiations with Subject #50.

He closed his eyes for a long moment, closing the file and holding it to him, enjoying the feeling of relief coursing through him. Vindication. He wasn’t insane. And now that that was decided... he would tell Daniel everything. Regardless of the outcome, he would be truthful with him... and ask his forgiveness for their argument.

He glanced down into the storage cube again, only to see his own face staring at him again. Ah... there was the real file. Jason Walker, #51. He set Daniel’s down on top of the cabinet and picked his up, leafing through. It was very small, and mostly to do with Daniel, referring to his new file number and implantation at the end of “successful negotiation with Subject #50”.

He flipped through the pages idly, then froze. There was the photo from Anna’s file, the family photo, he realized. Only this time, it wasn’t damaged, and he was in it. His mouth went dry as he read. ‘Name: Jason Walker. Family unit of Toby and Janet Walker (unsuitable for experimentation). Maternity Melissa Heartford. Age calculated at 26 rotations of the blue planet.’ He skimmed past the rating scale hurriedly, turning the page.

‘Relations: Toby Walker (deceased) – shared paternity. Sarah Walker #3853 (18 rotations) – shared paternity.’

Half sister. John felt a knot of nausea in the base of his stomach, and he was suddenly very, very glad that they had ended their intimacy when they did. It struck him, then, the magnitude of the Stranger’s last experiment. Not only to see if he could be a rapist and murderer, but to see if he would do the same to his own kin....

Telling Anna wasn’t an option, his course of action was clear. He carefully removed the pages with Anna, setting them back in the cube and sealing it over, then picked up his and Daniel’s files and returned to the lift.

The apartment was empty when he got home, quiet and tidy. A short note from Anna on the refrigerator to say she’d gone to a movie. He smiled, hoping it was with Rachel.

There was a letter addressed to him, sitting neatly on the table where he assumed Anna left it when she brought it in. His first name was written on the outside of the envelope in a familiar, tidy copperplate, and it took him a few moments to work up the courage to open it, sitting down safely in a chair by the window to read.

"Dear John,

Please forgive the circumstances of our last conversation. You came to me
with questions, and I have treated you very unkindly. I shouldn't have
dismissed your ideas so quickly when you have done nothing but listen to me
and accept me unconditionally.

I cannot pretend to make excuses for myself, but this is a difficult time for
us both right now. I pray you will forgive my weakness.

The city around me is meaningless without your company. Please consider
the possibility of our continued friendship. I yearn to continue our conversation.

If, however, your life has moved on, please believe that knowing you has
made me a better person, and that you were my light in overwhelming darkness.

Thank you for that, and for everything.

Your friend,

Daniel P Schreber."


John refolded the note carefully, placing it back into the envelope and closing his eyes, letting his head fall back against the chair. There was such an underlying tone of despair in the letter that he couldn't help but hate himself for causing it. But it still failed to address his most important question.... Was Daniel remembering as well?

He opened the letter again, reading it twice through. There was no hint of it, no mention of dreams or past love. But at least he seemed willing to talk....

Making a decision, he tucked the letter into his breast pocket and crossed the suite to the telephone, dialing Daniel's office. Three rings... four.... Just as John was about to be concerned, the psychologist picked up. "Dr. Schreber’s office."

The warm familiarity of the voice sent a wash of emotion through him, and it took a moment for John to respond, long enough that Daniel had tried another greeting. "Hello?"

"Daniel? It's... me. John."

On the other end of the phone, it was Daniel's turn for silence. "It's good to- hear from you, John," His voice softened. "How are you?"

"I... got your letter," John replied, wetting his lips. "I'm- I'm sorry I've been out of contact for so long."

"It's all right," Daniel replied softly, but his voice sounded heavy, sad, and John found that he wanted nothing more than to be there in person, to take that sadness away.

"I know it's getting a little late, but... do you mind if I stop by? I just... I’m sorry for my actions. I’d like to explain myself a little. To talk to you." His eyes fell to the files where they sat on the counter. Maybe if he took those, he would be more open to listening....

"I would like that -- very much," Daniel replied softly, and John smiled, relieved.

"All right. I'll be there very shortly."

"See you soon, John."

It only took him a few moments to pull on his coat and jog up the steps to the roof, the files in hand. The idea of wasting time walking or hailing a taxicab sat like a rock in his stomach, so he tapped into the machines under the city to fly. He dropped down lightly onto the roof of Daniel's building, locating the top of the lift shaft and Tuning the doors open. Levitating himself gently down the shaft, he stepped out on Daniel's floor, just a few steps from his door. Heart pounding, he turned the handle and let himself in.

The office was messy, a state he’d never seen it in, with books and papers everywhere. He moved through it silently, through the hall to the open door to Daniel’s apartment, which he’d also never seen before. It was small, cozy. Dominated by more books, and more mess.

Daniel was still dressed in a suit, but it was rumpled, the cuffs of his shirt ink stained, and his jacket was tossed haphazardly over the back of a chair. He stood at the window, not making any move to acknowledge him as John entered.

John crossed the room quietly to stand behind him, speaking his name softly to announce his presence, but Daniel didn’t turn, his eyes moving across the city outside.

“When it’s light,” he said softly, “I can almost – forget all of this. Forget them. You’ve made– a beautiful city, John.”

John wet his lips, trying to decide how to respond, how to broach the subject. “I went into the vaults again,” he said softly, finally. “I found the pocket where they kept... confidential records. You were right. The dead, the strays, the troublemakers. And... us.” He held up the two coiled books silently, Daniel’s on top.

Daniel gave a little shuddering sigh, reaching down to touch his name, the glossy photo on the front. “I was... unfortunately handsome then. Sometimes, I forget...”

That hasn’t changed, John wanted to say, but he kept quiet. Instead, he kept a firm grip on the books. “Daniel... you should know I’ve read them both.”

Daniel looked up at him, blue eyes wounded, fearful, the kind of look that broke John’s heart. “I asked you– not to.”

“I’m sorry,” John replied, though he wasn’t. “I will leave them here with you and never touch them again after tonight, if that’s what you want. But I need to show you something. And I...” he hesitated. “I need to know the truth from you, the honest truth, before anything else.”

Daniel expression couldn’t be described as anything but miserable, but he nodded slowly.

John looked out at the city silently, trying to gather his thoughts. The sun was nearing the horizon, bathing the buildings in stark golden light and dark shadows. He turned back to Daniel to see the doctor watching him anxiously, fearfully, one hand clenching the windowsill so hard that his knuckles had turned white. “Why are you afraid?” he murmured, covering the hand with his own and carefully prying it from the window, keeping a firm grip to keep him from pulling away.

Daniel hesitated, his fingers trembling in John’s, torn between pulling away and the safety line he offered. Finally they closed tightly with his, trembling. “You have... power over me,” Daniel replied finally, looking down as if to hide from his reaction. “You are—the only one here, the only—who knows who I really am....”

“I won’t hurt you,” John said softly, and Daniel gave a little, nervous laugh.

“Who is to say? I’m not – I’m not the same Daniel – that I once was. You must—you must realize that. I’ve lost... my humanity, working for them.”

John closed his eyes briefly against the wave of anguish that came at his words, wanting so badly to argue the opposite, but focusing instead on the task at hand. “You do remember me, then. My dreams are real.”

Daniel swallowed hard, still unable to meet his gaze. “Yes. I believe so.”

“Every one? Every night? Every night, Daniel, the dreams come. And it’s always about...” he hesitated, trying to find the words. “You. You and I.”

Daniel looked up at him, slowly, softly. “John... I dream them too.”

“Do you remember...” John hesitated, gathering his strength. “What we were to each other?”

Daniel let out a small breath, closing his eyes, and the hand in his trembled. His voice, when he finally spoke, was surprisingly husky with emotion. “Every minute of every day.”

John let out a long sigh, a surprising wash of relief running through him as he let go of the stress he didn’t know he’d been holding onto. “Oh, gods... thank you.”

Daniel’s hand tightened almost painfully on his, and he opened his eyes to meet the blue gaze, eyes bright with emotion but surprisingly fierce. “I’m not your Daniel anymore,” He almost growled. “I’m afraid – because when you realize – that the dreams aren’t – how things are now... you will leave, and I... “ he stopped, breathless, forcing himself to finish, his voice a whisper. “I will have nothing to live for.”

John set the books down blindly on a table behind him, bringing his free hand up slowly, ghosting his fingers over Daniel’s hair before gradually, ever so gently coming to rest on the side of his face, the pad of his thumb gently brushing across Daniel’s twisted lips. He could feel Daniel’s jaw grit under his touch, and he sighed, moving a little closer to him, wanting to reassure him however he could. “Daniel... if I don’t have you in my life... I don’t have anything to live for, either.”

Daniel’s eyes are pleading. “I’ve done... horrible things, John. You don’t -- you don’t understand....”

“I know that you did them so I wouldn’t have to,” he replied softly, simply, and Daniel’s resolve broke, crumpling against him and clinging to him.

“I need you,” John whispered softly, letting his face nuzzle into the blonde hair. “You’ve done so much for me already, but I need you all the more. I won’t leave you. Please don’t push me away. Daniel, please....”

And then, Daniel moved, just slightly, just enough that John could feel his lips press a trembling kiss against his jaw, holding it there with his hands clenched in the back of John’s jacket. It took all of his willpower to stay still, to keep from grabbing his face and stealing the kisses that he craved, but he somehow found patience he didn’t know he had, closing his eyes and letting the doctor take this final step at his own pace.

Daniel’s breath came in warm, soft puffs against his cheek, but ever so slowly he began to move his lips, trembling, inching down in kisses along his jaw as his body shifted closer to him. John kept his eyes closed, letting one hand smooth slowly from Daniel’s shoulder up over the back of his neck, curling gently in his hair, encouraging him. Daniel’s lips pressed to the corner of his mouth, lingering for what seemed like a maddeningly long time. Then, softly breathing John’s name against his lips, he let them come together in the softest brush, lingering close enough that his trembling sigh was like an echo of the kiss.

John tilted his head despite himself, ever so slightly, to press their lips together again, his arm tightening around Daniel’s waist securely, pressing close to him. The gentle encouragement seemed to be what the doctor needed, and he claimed his lips again, warmer, his body starting to relax against him. John felt a soft moan escape his throat, overwhelmed with the sweetness of his mouth, how good, how real it felt to be living these kisses in the here and now. These were the sensations he’d dreamed of and craved, the memories coming back. The emotion to fill the hole in his heart.

Daniel was gasping against his mouth, drinking in his kisses like he would drown without them, and John revelled in it, tugging him closer to him, leaning back against the wall. Daniel took the silent hint, pressing him back into the wall in a way that John found so incredibly delicious, one hand moving up to tangle in his dark curls. He let his lips part, letting the doctor taste him, warm and yearning. It felt as though their bodies were meant to fit together, and John wondered how he could have ever forgotten something so perfect.

Daniel’s breath had quickened to come in almost painful, harsh gasps against his mouth, breaking suddenly from the kiss to try and pull more air into his damaged lungs. John held him tightly, his forehead pressed to Daniel’s. “Shhh....”

“I’m – so sorry – “ the doctor tried to say, and John pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, stroking his back.

“Shh... don’t talk,” He murmured, nuzzling his cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Daniel relaxed against him a little as he slowly caught his breath, looking up at him with worried eyes. “This body - I’m so – weak... John... How can I – take care of you?”

John slipped his hand up to cup the damaged side of his face, stroking over the fine white scars gently with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t worry about anything. You’ve always taken care of me. Now we’ll take care of each other.”

Daniel nodded slowly, turning his face to press a soft kiss to his thumb, his eyes not leaving John’s. “The night—that you left here, the night that I – that I lied to you. I dreamed about – the nightmare, when they -- took you from me.” He reached up to stroke his fingertips up the right side of John’s face, fingertips brushing the eyelid that drooped the tiniest bit. “I remember— seeing what they did to you. I remember the blood. I’m glad you – came out better than I.”

John leaned in to press his face to his hair, kissing the mangled ear, his damaged eyelid, the soft scars on his face. “A last, selfless gift from my lover.” he whispered softly.

Daniel turned to brush his lips with his. “Not—the last, anymore. Not if I – can help it.” He kissed him, warm and tender and yearning, and John had to forcibly steel himself against the rush of emotion and need.

“Can I stay with you?” He half whispered against his mouth. “I don’t think I can stand to leave.”

Daniel wrapped his arms around him tightly. “I don’t think I – can stand to see you go,” he replied, voice low and a little husky.

-------
Daniel took him silently to his bedroom, which was lined in more bookshelves and dominated by a huge walnut bed frame, the mattress large and soft looking. The setting sun cast a soft golden light around the room through the window, and John took a brief moment to slow the rotation of the city, extending the light.

Daniel pulled him close as they reached the bed, catching his mouth for a long, warm kiss. It was all John could do to keep control of himself, to keep from pulling him onto the bed for a thousand breathless kisses, hard and passionate lovemaking. He reminded himself very sternly of his promise to take care of his battered lover, keeping his kisses warm and measured, stroking his hands up over his chest to tug the buttons of his vest undone. He broke from the kiss to press his face to Daniel’s hair, kissing the sensitive soft spot behind his ear that he now remembered, kissing slowly down his neck as he tugged the vest off and tossed it towards a nearby chair.

The doctor gave a little shiver of pleasure under his lips, trying to keep his breath calm and measured. “Are you sure, John...?”

He raised his head just long enough to catch his gaze. “This has been my dream for weeks,” He replied, surprising himself a little at the huskiness of his own voice. “Memories of this. My mind remembers. My body remembers.” His voice lowered, giving the softest admission. “I crave you.”

Daniel’s lips parted slightly to a soft sigh, his eyes narrowing almost predatorily, a look John had never seen on his face, and found that it made his heart skip a beat. He leaned in to indulge in Daniel’s mouth again, hungry, yearning, almost tearing at his lips before remembering himself and pulling away to let his lover breathe, moving to kiss and suckle his neck. It was the same, the same taste, the same scent as his dreams - his memories, and he tugged at the buttons on Daniel’s shirt to reveal more skin, craving the contact, craving the taste of him. He pulled the shirt off of him, sucking and nipping at the crook of his neck more roughly than intended, marking him, but it made Daniel whimper in such a deliciously nice way that he couldn’t stop himself. He pulled back just long enough to pull Daniel’s undershirt over his head, and then dipped his head to suck at the other side.

Daniel was anything but still, deftly unbuttoning John’s shirt to remove it, stroking his hands restlessly over his bare upper body as if to memorize every inch of his skin. He tugged John back with him onto the bed, pulling back the heavy quilts to let them sink into the down mattress underneath. John pressed close to him with no complaint, kissing over his chest hungrily, nuzzling the small whirls of soft blonde hair. He flicked his tongue teasingly against his nipples, dropping warm kisses to each before moving to trace the white lines of his scars slowly, gently with his mouth. He let his hands roam over Daniel’s hips and thighs, legs tangling with his. He tried to keep enough of his wits about him to listen for Daniel’s breathing, and lifted his head when he heard it catch painfully. “Are you all right?”

“Don’t stop,” Daniel breathed, voice husky, and that was all the encouragement he needed. He could remember quite vividly, little bits and pieces of their former lovemaking, what Daniel liked, what made him whimper and gasp. It was more than erotic to do that now, to rediscover his lover’s body, and the new sensitivity of his scars. His kisses slowly trailed down to nip and lick teasingly at his soft stomach, slipping a hand up to gently cup his erection through his slacks, to stroke and tease him as Daniel’s hips jerked helplessly into his touch, fingers clenching at John’s shoulders, his back, his hair.

It was so easy to slip Daniel’s belt undone, to tug open his slacks enough to free him from his shorts. So easy to nuzzle the evidence of his arousal, letting his breath play against his shaft teasingly before he flicked his tongue against the tip of his cock, sucking at it ever so gently. Daniel groped for and found one of his hands on the bed sheets and claimed it, clenching it, his breath coming in short, hard audible gasps.

John looked up the length of his body, his lover breathless and needy, blue eyes watching him with the most incredulous wonder. “Daniel... if you need me to stop, just say so....”

“Don’t - !” Daniel’s voice was throaty and just a little desperate, and John wondered if he knew how wild it made him. He dipped to take the head of his erection between his lips, remembering how much he loved the feel of having him filling his mouth, hard and warm, how much he loved pleasuring him. He moaned around him despite himself, his free hand stroking the base of his cock gently, slowly, lost in the joy of his lover’s body and pleasure, the warm, musky taste and sent of his skin. He took his time exploring him, working his lips and tongue against him, listening for each gasp and whimper as he teased and pleasured him.

“John – stop!” Daniel gasped his name helplessly, and he pulled back, a little regretfully, hearing the painful rasps of his lover’s breath. He moved up to press close to him, nuzzling his hair, stroking his chest gently, wishing he could soothe his ravaged lungs. On impulse, he placed a palm against his chest, sending his attention to the delicate structure beneath it, the skin and muscle, tissue and bone. Becoming acutely aware of exactly how his heart beat, how he drew breath....

“I’m sorry --- John, I -!”

"Give me a moment," he murmured, trying not to lose focus, closing his eyes and starting to Tune. It wasn't much different, in the end, than making buildings. He didn't need to be an architect, just to know how to copy things around him, to make things as they should be. It was the same with his lover's body, with the ravaged tissue of his lungs, which he carefully made new again, opening and strengthening the formerly scared and damaged passages, letting his breath flow freely.

He lifted his head to see Daniel watching him with undisguised wonder, and while it might have been his imagination, John thought he looked healthier already. He smiled, fingers stroking his chest gently. "How do you feel?"

The doctor drew a long breath, deep and free from physical pain, and his voice, when he replied, was more than a little overwhelmed. "John... you...."

“Shh...." John kept stroking, over and over, dropping gentle kisses on his hair. “Just relax and catch your breath...” His own breath hitched as Daniel smoothed a hand down his midline to tease his erection, now straining almost painfully at his slacks. A low groan of relief escaped his throat as Daniel tugged his pants undone, stroking him slowly and firmly, teasing the head of his cock with his thumb. John rocked his hips into his touch slightly, Daniel’s fingers teasing him- just so– pulling a whimpering cry of pleasure from his throat, making him gasp his name. “Oh hell, Daniel...”

His lover caught his mouth with his own, moving his hand long enough to set his wire rimmed glasses on the bed table before resuming his stroking, claiming John’s mouth for a hungry kiss. “I’ll do anything you want me to, John.” He murmured, and John nipped at his bottom lip, tugging at his slacks.

“Help me with these,” he murmured, and within a few moments they were both nude, warm skin on skin as their bodies fit together, arching and grinding with soft sighs of pleasure, feeling as if it was impossible to get close enough to each other.

John moved to suck on his tattered earlobe, nipping ever so lightly, his breath playing against Daniel’s skin as he spoke. “Sit up against the headboard for me,” He murmured, and Daniel obliged, watching him with a mix of need and tenderness in his eyes.

John straddled his lap, claiming his mouth again in slow, maddening kisses. He could Tune anything they might need, and did so now, stroking slick lubrication over Daniel’s erection between them, which made Daniel whimper helplessly and nip at his lips as they kissed. Then he knelt up higher, holding onto the headboard with one hand for support, and ever so carefully let his body start to ease on to Daniel’s cock.

Daniel’s form trembled underneath him, shuddering from the sensation, or maybe the effort of holding himself still. But he managed to control his breath, inhalations coming in soft little gasps of pleasure, his arms tight around John’s waist. He opened his eyes long enough to catch John’s gaze, letting their foreheads rest together, gaze locked and breath mingling as John slowly pressed him deeper.

John bit his lip on the intensity of the sensation, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he slowly rocked onto him. The memories were strong, but his body wasn’t quite used to this anymore, adjusting slowly with the most intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain. He rocked a little harder despite this, locking their bodies together, taking Daniel’s erection up to the hilt. “Gods,” he gasped again, and Daniel’s arms tightened around him, pulling his thighs up just a little to press against John’s back, cradling him with his body.

They rocked together like that, ever so slowly, lost in the intensity of the moment, the connection to each other. John had to break eye contact, feeling almost overwhelmed by the sensation and emotion and how much he simply needed him. He pressed his cheek against Daniel’s, whimpering his name softly, and Daniel’s arms tightened around him, a shudder running though his body. He could feel tears on his skin, but he wasn’t sure if they were from himself or Daniel, and realized that it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but being here, now, being whole again.

He started to rock a little harder as his body adjusted to penetration, craving more sensation, clinging to him. Daniel’s hips rocked with him, just a little, thrusting up into him a little faster, a little harder. And then the head of his cock was hitting a place inside John that felt like pure, concentrated pleasure, bursting through him with every thrust. He cried out helplessly with each white hot shock of sensation, gulping sharp gasps of air, his fingers clenched tight at Daniel’s shoulders. Daniel shuddered under him, gasping his name helplessly against his hair, and John could feel his pleasure building fast, hard shocks of sensation that almost eclipsed every other sense, every thought but the need for release. His body was driven to orgasm with one last hard thrust, and his lips formed Daniel’s name as he cried out his pleasure. Every nerve in his body shuddered with pleasure as he clenched around Daniel’s cock, pulling him along with him, spilling his seed in him as John climaxed on their stomachs, hot and thick.

For a long moment, neither moved, clinging to each other as their heartbeats slowed, as Daniel caught his breath, wordlessly taking in the moment. Then John pulled back, ever so slowly, letting his lips trace a reverent path over Daniel’s features. "I love you."

Daniel nodded slowly. "More than anything in the word. I missed you... so much.” he murmured softly, but the awe in his voice and in his eyes told volumes more.

“I’ll never leave you again,” John replied, sealing his words with a tender kiss.

John woke the next morning to the slow caress of Daniel’s fingers over his back, his breath slow and even against John’s hair, face nuzzling into it. He let himself stretch languidly against Daniel’s body, finding the feeling of being nude with him sinfully delicious. Shifting a little, he raised his head to look at him, arching to catch his mouth, kisses sweet and warm.

“Thank you,” Daniel whispered softly as their lips parted, eyes bright with emotion, with wonder.

John tilted his head with a little smile. “For?”

Daniel let his eyes fall closed for a moment, drawing a deep breath, then letting it out with a small sigh of pleasure. “For being here with me. For making me well.”

“I’m sorry. I should have tried it long ago,” John replied seriously, but Daniel shook his head.

“You’ve done more for me than I can ever repay you for,” the doctor said softly, but John silenced him with a kiss, pulling back to meet his gaze.

“Daniel... you saved my life when you didn’t even know me. When I’d been cruel to you. No more talk about who is repaying who. Let’s just make up for the time we’ve lost.” He leaned forward on impulse, pressing his lips to the corner of Daniel’s right eye and closing his eyes to focus. It was easier this time, to urge away the scar tissue, shift his skin to how it should be, soft and smooth and whole.

Daniel was quivering under him, and burst out laughing as John pulled back. “... that tickles!” He blinked several times, tensing then stretching the muscles in his face. “God, that feels wonderful.”

John laughed with him, cuddling closer. “I’ll fix everything, if you want. Undo everything they did to you.”

Daniel brushed his fingertips over his cheek, giving him a fond smile. “This is fine. It’s part of who I am, what we survived.” He paused for a moment, reflecting, then gave a guilty little smile. “Well... maybe my leg....”

John reached up to kiss him, revelling in his closeness, the familiarity of it. “Anything I have, anything you want is yours,” he murmured softly, loving the security of Daniel’s arms around him.

“I just want you,” his friend replied, tightening his arms around him gently.

John smiled, taking a moment to indulge in just looking at him. Yes... this was his Daniel. A little older, a little scarred... but this was the man he remembered, the man he’d loved so much that those memories had come back in dreams despite all the meddling of the Strangers. “When did you first remember me?”

Daniel gave his little guilty smile again. “When did I remember, or when did I realize that it was real?”

“Both.”

“Hmm...” Daniel let his head lean back against the headboard, idly reaching for his glasses and putting them on. “I started dreaming about you almost immediately after you took over the city,” he admitted. “I mentioned to you before that the strangers would inject me every two weeks, they said I’d become troublesome otherwise. Perhaps the lack of new memories made the memory wipe less effective.... In any case, that’s why it took me so long to work up the nerve to come and see you. It was a rather... strange thing to adjust to.”

John watched him with a fond little smile. “I’m glad you came,” he said, softly.

“I couldn’t stay away,” Daniel admitted, idly smoothing a hand over John’s arm, fingers stroking his skin. “That day we went down to the vaults... when you talked about the squid ink pasta, and being called Jason, I realized that there was a very good chance that they were memories after all. I just... wasn’t sure you’d want me.”

John shifted up closer to him, nuzzling his hair. “I’ll show you every day how much I do.”

Daniel gave a soft, appreciative noise, dropping a soft kiss on his earlobe. “You know... I finally dreamed of Anna last night.”

John pulled back and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Anna? Really?”

He nodded. “She was very young. We’d gone... to a restaurant together? Her and you and I. For some reason you left the table... and she told me that if I broke your heart, she’d make me regret it for the rest of my life.”

He chuckled. “She didn’t.”

“I remember telling her that it was likely to be the other way around,” he said, and chuckled. “That despite my best efforts... my heart belonged entirely to you.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over John’s lips. “It’s still true.”

John kissed the pad of his thumb gently. “You know...” he said softly, “It seems like such an odd twist of fate.... Out of everyone in this city, that the person who developed the ability to defeat them... was the lover they’d used to enslave you.”

“Some kind of cosmic karma?” Daniel suggested, and John smiled.

“Perhaps. The day we defeated them, when I went back to Shell Beach... Mister... Hand, was it? He was there. Said he wanted to find out how I felt, even if it meant dying. And I told him... that what they were looking for, the secret to humanity wasn’t in the mind at all....” He looked down at Daniel seriously, tracing his fingertips over his features, trying to memorize the moment, the look and feel of him.

“I believed it then... but now I know for certain. It’s love that makes us who we are.”

_____________
(fin)