The Vault

Take My Body Home - Jimmy Page Fanfic

May 20, 2014

I didn't think my life would end up this way...

Sixty-two years old and missing the love of my life terribly. I was married once... Technically, I still am... The divorce was never finalized so I still have my husband's last name, though I haven't spoken to him in nearly thirty years.

I never really realized how much of a mistake I made, leaving him. He was my everything... But he started going down a path that I didn't really agree with... He started taking drugs and it got to the point where he was just a mess. I tried getting him help, I really did. But he seemed to care more about the band he was in, and the heroin he was shooting, rather than his wife and his own kids.

I still love him, though. I always have and always will. Of course I've dated since my husband and I split, but I never really found anyone quite like him. Sometimes I wish I could just go back to the day where I just walked out... Where I told him I've had enough of the fights leaving me a broken mess to clean up the pieces on my own.

I'd been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn't even heard my name being called.

"Marlena Page?"

My attention snapped up to see the flight attendant smiling down at me as she tried handing me back my passport. I shook my head, trying to get back into the now, rather than dwelling on the ghosts of my past.

I apparently dropped my passport in the aisle of the flight in which the attendant was nice enough to pick it up for me. I'm not so sure if I liked how she said my name... Her eyes lit up when she said 'Page', as though the farmiliarity of those letters formed in that pattern rang some sort of vague bell in her distant memory.

Page... Every now and then, someone will come up to me and ask if I'm at all related to the Jimmy Page... I always have to say no and leave it at that. It hurts too much to bring up the fact that I was once married to him... Well... Still am. I haven't seen him in almost three decades; he's probably forgotten all about me, and judging by all the photographs of him in the tabloids with a skinny little model clinging to him, I'm sure he has.

The flight attendent smiled and walked away, dropping any idea of asking about my last name. It was obvious that she was a fan of Jimmy's, and she's probably seen me in a tabloid or two from the 70's...

The ding of an electronic bell and the flash of the seatbelt sign somewhere above my head, broke me out of my reverie as the intercom on the plane came on.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we're beginning our decent into Charles de Gaulle airport. This is your captain speaking and may I be the first to welcome you into Paris."

Ahh... Paris. It's good to be home.

I was born and raised in Paris, actually. I moved to New York when I was about ten years old, only to move to London when I was seventeen... That's when I met Jimmy... Since Jimmy and I split up after the birth of our son, I'd moved back to Paris. Recently, I was just visiting my son in California, where he's spending his days going to film school. My little boy, James, is now all grown up. He's nearly twenty-six years old and living on his own in the states.

He tells me that he keeps in touch with his sister a lot... I wish I could still talk to my daughter. Scarlet hasn't spoken to me since Jimmy and I split up... She's always been a daddy's girl and instantly took his side when I'd left. I wish I'd never done it... I miss my daughter... I miss my husband...

No. I need to stop thinking of him.

This has been an ongoing battle with myself for the past thirty years. The pain brought on by these thoughts have been diluted since I met Harold... Then when I met Raphael... Then when I met Alexander... And so on and so forth. I've had a few relationships lasting more than a few years, but they never really got to the point where marriage could be considered an option. I'd always broken it off before that point. Something just wouldn't feel right about the relationship.