Surviving Alex North - short story compilation

Bad News, Paint Chips and Goodbyes

Bad News, Paint Chips and Goodbyes

"Your look is telling me that this is bad news." John stares at the woman that he thought would always be on his side of the fight and can't help the shaky breath that leaves his lips. He studies the face that he knows so well, the eyes that he always understood, but the haze that he sees within them tells him that things might never be the same way again.

"John-"

He puts up a hand to stop her before she can even begin, "Please... please don't say it. Memories or no memories, I can still read you better than anyone can and I'm not strong enough to hear what you have to say."

"John I need to tell you and explain-"

"God damnit Doc!" A flinch is barely shown in her features at his abrupt words and her frown becomes a little more deepened upon her face as he turns away from her. She steps towards him and reaches out a gentle hand. At the contact his back goes rigid, but he does not pull away. Fierce blue eyes focus on the wall before them as he concentrates on a spot where the paint has been chipped away. The imperfections in the wall are many, as John wonders how many husbands, fathers, brothers, and friends have stood in this exact spot and let out their repressed anger on the wall. Shouting about how cruel the world can be, how unfair life always seems to be. "Wonder how many times this has been repainted."

His question causes her to drop her hand and move around him in confusion, "What has been repainted?"

"The wall." Shaking his head, "Nevermind, just me thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

"Pain."

He looks up to see all expression fall from her face at his words, "John, I know this must be hard for you to-"

She drops off and he supplies the lost word, "Accept? Yeah, yeah you could say that. A little hard to find out that your wife, who can't remember you, is going to give up and walk away from your marriage and over twenty years of a life and friendship together to play house with some long-lost and never heard of husband of the past. Yeah, Doc. It's a little hard to grasp. Mind if I take a moment to digest it?"

"John-" He turns away from her once again, "John, there is no need to be cruel."

"Cruel?" John doesn't even bother to turn back around, just lets out an ironic laugh and grips the back of a chair, "You're walking out on me for another man you don't even know and I'm the one being cruel. Okay," Turning back around, "have it your way. I was cruel. I was rude. I was being a bastard and shouldn't have spoken to you so harshly. Better?"

"No."

"What do you want from me Marlena? Do you want my blessing? Do you want me to say it's okay that you're destroying me? Say that I understand your decision, because no. No, I don't understand it."

Raising her voice slightly to match his, "You haven't even let me tell you my decision! I've barely been able to say two words here."

"Are you choosing me?"

Marlena goes silent and looks down at the ground. A finger caresses the bottom of her chin and forces her to look back up at him. Eyes meet and the truth is evident as both sets of eyes begin to cloud over. She reaches up to brush away a stray tear as she shakes her head, "No. I've decided- decided to honor my vows to Alex."

"And not me?"

"I was married to him first. It's only fair."

"Fair!" John grabs her shoulders, "Fair, where is fair in this? How is any of this fair? How is it fair that Tony screwed with our lives? How is it fair that I buried you in the ground... twice. Three times - three times I've thought you were dead. Three times you've come back to me, just for you to walk away now? Like this? After everything we have gone through together, all the demons we have fought and survived together? How is that fair? How is it fair that Dr. North returns out of nowhere and gets to win, when I've been here everyday fighting my ass off?" His control begins to break, as he shakes her slightly to get her to focus back on him, "How the hell is any of this fair, Doc? Tell me! Explain it to me please, explain it and maybe then all the pain will go away and then maybe I can sleep at night. Tell me! Help me! Help me understand all this."

"I don't know. Let go of me!" She shrugs out of his grasp and stares back at him, "This is something that I need to do and I need you to understand and accept it. It's my decision."

"Your decision?"

"Yes. Mine and mine alone."

He laughs but it doesn't reach his eyes and sounds almost hollow. Her cold gaze just causes another short laugh to fall from his lips, "Your life isn't your own Marlena. It;s our life. It's our children's lives. Every decision made affects everybody."

"I am so sick of hearing that! This is my life, John. Mine! I get to decide what I do with it. Not you. Not Roman. Not Alex. Not anybody!"

Silence invades the room as the couple stare each other down. Finally, John speaks up, "The moment you said 'I do' to me at the church it became us, no longer you. The moment Sami came into this world, followed by Eric and the moment you let Brady into your heart, and later with the birth of Belle, it was no longer you. It's us. It's them. You gave your life up for them, it's what you've lived for and now, my God, I actually feel sorry for you right now Doc."

"What?"

John stares at his wife's shocked expression, "Yes, sorry for you. Because one day your memory will come back and I can't even imagine the pain you are going to be in when you've realized what you've done." He stops her before she can reply, "Not about leaving me, about not putting the kids first."

"So what, I'm suppose to put them first and choose you? Is that it?" Her tone is unrecognizable by John, "Convenient for you!"

"No, by putting them first would be not choosing at all. Or rather, choosing to get well. Work to get your memories back rather than making life-altering decisions." His statement rattles her, as she takes in a sharp breath and turns away from him. He, too, turns away and grips the chair as he attempts to collect himself.

He feels that he has already lost this battle and doesn't know how to get the upper-hand. He's losing her. Or she is already gone. Right now he can't decide which. Stefano was a man, a man of evil that he could fight. Kristen, also evil. The devil, the same. All beings that could be fought and defeated and they fought them side by side. For this fight, they are not a team. They aren't even fighting the same battle and for the first time ever, his heart tightens and his breathing goes shallow at the realization that he simply cannot win if she isn't on his side. He's only half a man without her. John breaks the silence but cringes as his voice cracks with emotion, "Know what the worst part of this is?"

"No. Tell me."

John can feel her staring at his back and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge, as he holds back a shiver, "It's not the fact that I'm losing my wife... I've lost that part of you before. I can survive that. But it's the fact that I've lost you as a friend. I no longer have my best friend and that's a piece of you that I've always had. I..." He stops talking as the tears finally start to fall. He holds his breath and refuses to let her see his tears.

Her tears run freely down her face, as she makes no effort to conceal them or wipe them away. She walks up behind him and reaches out a hand to touch his arm, "John-"

"Don't.." The words stop her movement as her hand hovers, waiting to hear the rest, "Please don't touch me. My little girl needs me right now and I have to be strong for her." Taking in a careful deep breath, his attempt to hide his emotions fails, but Marlena makes no movement to point this out, "I don't have time right now to break, Izzy B needs me and I have to be her daddy right now. But I heard you." One more deep breath enters his lungs as he turns towards his wife, allowing his tears to show for once. He reaches up to wipe hers away, like he has done so many times in the past and leans down to place a gentle kiss on her wet cheek, "Be happy."

He moves around her and down the hall. He moves quickly and enters another hallway before he turns towards the wall and rests his forehead against it. He allows the tears to fall more fiercely but he doesn't make a sound until he sees the chipped paint on the wall. Stepping back, he runs his fingers over the spots and thinks about the pain that others had been in when their fists had come in contact with the wall. A loud sob leaves him as his fist comes in contact with the plywood. Looking down at his knuckles, he picks off a small chip of paint and allows the pain to surround him.