Nothing Else Matters

Daniel wasn't particularly sure why he'd suggested that John rekindle his relationship with Anna. It certainly wasn't what he wanted, though he knew very well that what he did want simply wasn't possible. Perhaps it was the remnants of some sense of chivalry. After all, John deserved to be happy. Who was he to begrudge him anything that made him that way?

The first time he'd mentioned it, when he'd been a guest at his house in Shell Beach for almost a week, John had looked a little sad, a little wistful. "I suppose," he'd replied finally, noncommittally, and changed the subject back to something else. It was definitely easier to talk about something else, and delightfully Daniel had found that he and John could converse easily about a seemingly unending number of topics, from the workings and upkeep of the city - which Daniel had begun to help him puzzle out and organize - to music and literature, something which seemed to fascinate John. They'd returned to the city a few times, to visit Daniel's office, to scour the city for the books left over from the strangers, for hidden jewels speaking about the history of where they'd come from, a place the books called "earth".

Daniel couldn't recall a time when he'd felt such joy. Even though he still needed to watch himself very carefully around John, keep himself from getting into situations or conversations where his tight control on his own emotions would slip, he craved what they did have, craved the easy company and the sense of not being alone. Even if they did nothing but relax on his porch, each with a book, or John reading aloud, it was such a bright contrast to everything he'd known before, the dark and cold and loneliness.

They were in town one day, simply walking, when he finally met Anna. He heard her voice first, sweet and light, calling for John, and then their was a rush of hair and dress and her arms were thrown around John's neck as he was pulled into a tight hug, her pink lips pressed warmly to his.

His dark haired friend smiled, though it seemed somehow strained. "Hey Anna."

She was all smiles. "How have you been? I was afraid I wouldn't see you again, I haven't seen you in over a week."

"I - I had some business to take care of, I'm sorry. Anna - I'd like you to meet Daniel Schreber, a very dear friend of mine."

He smiled, graciously, and offered a hand, which she shook. "I've heard so much -- about you, Anna."

Her smile was a little confused. "I wish I could say the same. How long have you and John known each other?"

"Since I was very young, actually," John answered for him with a little smile. "We went to school together. Daniel's been working in the city for these past few years, but I managed to lure him out here for a well-deserved vacation."

Somehow they ended up having dinner together at his own suggestion. Anna was sweet, flirty, and talkative. Everything that John should have. But he found himself slowly shutting down throughout the night, talking less and watching more, trying to keep himself from feeling envious of the girl. She was so sweet, so perfect for John. After all, he'd made her that way.

He realized, too late now, that it had been a very bad idea to come here to Shell Beach, to have spent so much time with John. Regardless of how platonic that time had been, he'd gotten to used to the idea of the two of them together, to the point where seeing John with someone else made him feel very and envious and dark and ugly inside. He paid, when they finished dinner, and excused himself with a little smile. "John, please feel free to see Anna home. I'm afraid my leg is bothering me -- too much for the walk, I will take a taxi back -- to your house."

John didn't hide his disappointment, but nodded. "Of course. I'll see you there."

The house was cold without John, regardless of the golden light of the setting sun. Being alone, he found, was worse than being with them, and he couldn't push aside the ache in his heart, couldn't stop his mind from thinking of what they could be doing, talking about. Couldn't stop seeing Anna kissing John. It was a dangerous path to walk down, and he didn't know how to stop himself. Finally, he came to the inevitable conclusion of how to resolve his thoughts and feelings, and quietly packed the few things he had into the small suitcase he'd brought back, leaving the light coloured summer suits John had Tuned for him hanging in the closet.

He didn't notice John's presence until he was almost finished, until he turned to find him standing in the door, and started. "John!"

The dark haired man looked confused, and more than a little hurt. "You're leaving?"

He tried to avoid his gaze, keeping it on the suitcase as he closed it. "I have taken advantage of your -- hospitality for too long, I'm afraid."

John shook his head. "No. I like having you here, it's no trouble at all..."

"Thank you." He wet his lips. "Still. I have -- neglected my office. I must go. I'm sorry."

John took a few steps into the room to stand by his side. "This is about Anna, isn't it."

"Of course not."

"Then what is it?" There was more hurt in his expression, and a little anger. "Tell me, please."

"I need to leave," he replied softly, heart aching, pushing past John and heading out into the hallway.

The wall beside him shifted into another doorway without warning, and John insinuated himself in front of him in the hall, both hands braced on the walls to keep him from leaving. So close to him, so close that Daniel could feel the heat of his skin, smell his cologne, and he turned his face away with a little shiver, trying to push away his emotions, stay strong in his resolve. "Please, John...."

"Don't go," John said softly, anguish apparent in his voice. "Whatever I did, I'm sorry...."

"You didn't do anything -- wrong," he replied, not moving, not turning, heart pounding at their closeness, at the warmth and scent of him. It was too much, too much to handle, to keep resisting, and he knew without a doubt he had to leave, before his weakening barriers crumbled all together, before he said things he would certainly regret, that would end their gentle friendship. It was too tempting, to hard to resist the urge to speak, to tell him everything that he shouldn't, with John standing so close to him. "Please, I... I need to leave."

John sighed, a long, shuddering breath. "I need you," he whispered, and it almost broke Daniel.

"You need your wife," he managed. "A nice, normal life. As do I."

"She's not - she's never been my wife. I don't want Anna," came the desperate reply, and Daniel's eyes flicked to his, shielding himself against need and desire, against the anguish he saw in his green eyes.

"You should want Anna," he replied softly, then reached to gently remove John's hand from the wall, pushing past him and leaving the house. He half expected John to follow him, to continue the argument, but there was no movement from the house.

With a heavy heart, he hailed a cab and started back for the city.

~~TBC~~