Breathe

Chapter 8

Marlena sat with John on the wooden steps that led down to the water watching Avi and Shawn-D explore along the beach. The two boys were so different. Avi was quiet and introspective, watching and studying the world around him. Shawn-D blasted through life with exuberance and joy as if everyone should step out of his path. Watching them together was simply magic. Shawn-D ran towards Avi yelling excitedly. He grabbed Avi's hand, pulling him towards a large bit of driftwood.

Bo and Hope had walked further down, and were obviously deep in their own conversation. John thought that Marlena and Hope's interactions over the last few days might be the topic of conversation. It wasn't that they were romantic or even sexual in nature, but they were much more affectionate than they ever might have been prior to their kidnappings. Marlena often reached out for Hope without thought, as if it were second nature. Bo seemed increasingly curious about their hand holding, embraces, and sometimes nuzzling. John refused to put a name to it, or even judge it. Surviving Stefano was hard enough on his own. If Marlena and Hope had each other during that time, in whatever capacity, he wasn't questioning it. As they adjusted to their new lives, they might naturally drift apart, and if they didn't... John would cross that bridge when they came to it.

He sighed gently, glancing over at Marlena. Her eyes were closed, and she leaned back on her palms, allowing the breeze to wash over her face. It was almost too cold to sit outside like this, there was a bite to the air, and a nip to the skin that was a prelude of the frigid night to come. Marlena had been very quiet, almost introspective since they had arrived two days earlier. He'd called Carrie the first night, telling her that he'd been correct, Marlena was alive, but that it was incredibly complicated, and she was going to need time to heal. He didn't ask Carrie to keep it quiet, but he knew she would. John was giving Marlena the space she needed, placing himself in her general proximity, simply to reassure her that he was there, but he hadn't touched her since that first night, when he'd carried her onto the plane.

The heat from the sun warmed her face, even as the bite in the sea air assaulted her skin. Marlena felt as if she were in a dream. It had been so long since she had been free, that she didn't seem to know what to do with it. Stefano had tried to give her the illusion of freedom, but she'd been nothing more than prey in a cage. Even now, she woke from nightmares two to three times per night, covering her mouth to keep from crying out and waking her son. The only time she had felt any real peace was when she allowed Hope to hold her, or when she was on the airplane and she'd twisted her fist into John's t-shirt. The breeze blew harder for a moment, and she caught his scent again, breathing deeply beside him. She wanted to trust him, and she wanted to be close to him, but it was going to take time, and she wasn't sure he would have the patience to give her that time. They had been apart for so long, she didn't trust her memories. They told her he would keep her safe, but those years with Stefano had rewritten the story.

John saw her breathe him in when the wind changed direction. She was inhaling him, and it brought him some calm. She wasn't shutting him out completely, and that was a huge relief. If she was able to associate his scent with something positive in her life right now, and if that was the only thing he could provide her, that was acceptable. Her hand was beside his on the wide step, since they were both leaning back on their palms, and he itched to touch her. Sliding his hand nearer to hers, he snaked his pinky finger out, brushing it over hers softly. She didn't flinch, and she didn't recoil. She glanced down at where he touched her, and then she closed her eyes again. John started talking to her softly, as he hooked his little finger around hers, almost as a way to distract her. "You know the Twinners are amazing, Doc. Absolutely amazing."

Even though her hair was braided down her back, she had small fine golden hairs framing her face that blew across her brow. He'd never known her with her hair that long, and he had to admit, it was beautiful. John had to force back all of his natural inclinations with her. His desire to brush her hair off of her forehead was strong, but instead he watched, as she brushed it aside with irritation, saying, "Can you tell me about them?"