Been Five Years

(An On Life and Living snippet)
by WesleysGirl



It's the fifth anniversary of Elizabeth's death, and the fact that it doesn't get any easier is making John want to yell, or maybe break things. It seems particularly cruel that she died in late spring, when the trees were in bloom and the flowers were bright dots of color in the yard. Oh, fuck it, it all seems cruel -- that she'll never get to see Kayla grow up. That Kayla has to grow up without her.

He's shitty to Rodney for days beforehand, which makes him feel even worse, but he can't seem to stop himself. Even Kayla's looking at him funny -- the date doesn't mean anything to her, and he's grateful for that, at least. Things are bad enough without her being miserable.

"What is your problem?" Rodney finally asks, exasperated, after John snaps at him for the thousandth time.

"Nothing," John mutters.

"Excuse me? Nothing? How stupid do you think I am?" Rodney strips off his t-shirt and throws it toward the laundry. Misses. He turns and glares at John, who's getting ready for bed, too.

"I don't think you're stupid." It's an attempt to ward off the conversation John knows is coming but for some reason keeps hoping he can put off. There's part of him that thinks if can just stall long enough, maybe this dark cloud will pass and things will be okay again.

"Really? Because you could have fooled me. You've been impossible to live with for the past week, you aren't sleeping or eating, and you can't keep pretending everything's fine. Do you want to split up? Is that it?"

John gapes at Rodney. "No. No!"

"Oh. Well, good." Rodney sounds relieved for a few seconds, then frowns again. "Then what? Just tell me." More gently, "Tell me."

And all of it -- the sleepless nights, the despair and sorrow and anger -- rises up, overwhelming him. John raises a hand to his mouth and wobbles and on his feet. He thinks, briefly, that he's going to pass out.

Rodney gives a startled squawk and jumps for him, gets both arms around him and sits him on the side of the bed. "John? John? Oh God. Should I call an ambulance? Are you sick?"

"No," he manages, burying his face in Rodney's neck and holding on for all he's worth. "I'm not -- it's just --" He's shaking and Rodney's arms are the only thing keeping him from flying apart. "It's been five years."

"Five years?" Rodney sounds puzzled and worried. "Five years since... oh. Oh.. God, why didn't you say something?"

"Wouldn't change anything," John says.

"Well, at least I'd understand why you've been acting like an asshole," Rodney says. His big hand slides up to the back of John's neck. "Are you okay? I mean, no, obviously not okay, but you're not going to faint or throw up or anything?"

John smiles faintly. "No. Don't think so."

"Okay." Rodney hugs him more tightly. "God, John, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'd give anything for it not to hurt you anymore."

That's worth more than Rodney knows. "I'll be okay," John says. "I'll try not to be such a jerk."

"Well, now that I know what's going on, I won't mind so much when you are," Rodney says. "It's not like I don't have my moments."

"True." Somehow, weirdly, that makes John feel better, and he relaxes a little bit and breathes with Rodney, in, out, until he feels less crazy.

Less crazy is good, even if it's not going to bring Elizabeth back. It's a long road, life, but at least, John thinks, he doesn't have to walk it alone.


Leave feedback in WG's journal.