John and Marlena (Finally) Get a Q!

Chapter 120 - Leaving Home Ain't Easy

"I'm sorry," she whispered softly, her hands shaking as she tucked them beneath the throw, pulling it close like some kind of shield. "I'm sorry, it's just wrong... It's too hard, for all of us."

"Doc, you know the reasons," John said in frustration. He hadn't expected her to back out, though a voice in the back of his mind told him he should have known her better than that. "I can deal with it. I'm sure Eugene can too."

"But I *can't*," she turned to him; her eyes swimming with unshed tears. "I can't do it John. Not anymore. I thought I could pretend that nothing had happened. But you proved to me that *none* of us can do that." A tear dribbled over smooth skin, and she flicked at it with irritated fingers. "I hurt you *both*. And I see you here in the same room and the way you look at each other...."

Her voice cracked and it was all she could do not to break down as she stood between the two of them. Eugene's face was a cold, controlled mask, hiding his pain and anger, and John's expression was one of hurt and confusion, stormy cobalt eyes signaling his dismay. In different ways, she had betrayed them both, betrayed John's love and Gene's friendship. And she couldn't continue to do that for her own selfish reasons. That wasn't fair on any of them. "That's my *fault*," she whispered, her lips feeling oddly as though they didn't want to move of their own accord. But somehow the words still stumbled past, barely audible, but still potent. "And I have to make that right."

"Marlena," Q sighed. He hadn't wanted to make her feel guilty, but he should have known. He knew her too well to kid himself that she wouldn't blame herself for this whole sorry mess they found themselves in. It was what she did, when faced with pain, she took responsibility for it, even if it wasn't hers to take responsibility for. Like Sami's misbehaviour; like Roman's injuries. Somehow, she always felt that it came back to her and her failings as a human being. He had hoped she had realized by now that it was all right to make mistakes; that everyone did. Even omnipotent Q's. No one was ever infallible.

"It wasn't your fault. So, you screwed up? So did I. So did John. It's not up to *you* to make everything right. You can't do that; you can't just wave a magic wand and everything will be suddenly okay."

"I *know* that," she said angrily, as she turned on him, the throw swinging around her ankles slightly to reveal the translucent robe that clung to her beneath it. "Please don't patronize me, Eugene. I am a psychiatrist, I do think I understand a little about human nature."

"All right, I'm sorry," he bowed his head slightly, realizing that arguing with her when she was in this frame of mind was probably going to be pointless. If not downright dangerous. "I just don't want you to feel guilty about something none of us can change."

"He's right Doc," John interrupted gently; almost surprised that he could agree with Eugene now without it twisting in his gut. "There's no point in dwelling on this any longer."

"Well, how are we supposed to forget it when Gene is here day in, day out?" Marlena asked, a lump swelling painfully in her throat. Her bronze eyes questioned him with painful honesty and John felt himself drowning in among the truth of her words. "When we have to see each other every day? When you have to leave me here alone with him? When he runs into me in the kitchen in the middle of the night because neither of us can sleep....?"

John had no answer for that. The look on her face had captured him and drawn him into her pain and culpability and he could do nothing but think of how he needed to hold her and never let her go. He had to make her feel safe again; feel that she had done the best that she could for him and the children. But still, there was the issue of her safety. And the reality that he alone could not assure it.

And so, instead, he reached out to touch her, his fingers grazing the softness of the chenille throw. He could see the outline of her pregnancy underneath the chartreuse fabric, and it sparked his reply.