Unrequited

Changing - Late October, 1998

Arianna was glad to be heading back to the States. The past few weeks had taken quite a toll on her, but they had been really difficult for John. His mother's death had hit both of them very hard. On many days, John seemed to be just going through the motions.

They were returning home because he had some Terroristen dates coming up, and he needed to get some rehearsals in before heading to Chicago for the first show. Yet, she knew his heart wasn't really in it. He would be gone on this short leg of the tour for two weeks, but he was so melancholy that she knew he would have difficulty getting into the shows.

She was the only person in the world who meant as much to John as his mother. And now Jean was gone. She would have to pick up the slack for a while to keep him going. She certainly didn't want his mother's death to send him back into his addictions. She would have to be alert and monitor his moods. For example, on more than one occasion, she had walked into a room where John was and found him staring out the window or just out into space as tears rolled down his cheeks. John was definitely hurting, and as much as she wanted to, she could do nothing to heal that. Outside of loving and supporting him.

As the plane took off from Birmingham International Airport, John buried his face in his hands and started to sob quietly. No one else could hear him except Arianna, which broke her heart. She reached over and put her hand on his thigh, letting him know she was there. He sniffled and sat up, wiping the tears from his face. Then he turned to look at her. He had been crying so much lately that he had not bothered to put his contacts in, so he had his glasses on, something he rarely did in public anymore. And for a split second, Arianna saw a young, scared Nigel looking over at her. It was going to be one long, hard road for him. It had to make him crave a drink or drugs to numb the pain.

"Are you okay, honey?" she asked, and he took her hand in his, pulling it up and kissing the back of it.

"I'm okay, love. Just a lot of memories, yeah?" he explained, and she nodded in agreement.

"I know, sweetie," she said, kissing him gently.

When the plane landed in New York, they went into one of the little airport restaurants to wait for their connecting flight to LA. John was halfheartedly picking at his food like he had been doing for days, and Arianna wished again that she could take his pain away. She knew from experience that losing someone as dear to you as a parent was traumatizing, and it had to be very hard for John because he and Jean had been so close. He had still talked to Jean several times a week, even through the fame and when he was young and wild. Her death left a massive hole in his life, and Arianna hoped he wouldn't try to fill it with something or someone else.

Their arrival back at their house in LA was loud, with Sophia, Atlanta, and Dylan being so excited to be home that they were yelling, jumping up and down, and running about. Even with that noise, John still shuffled around, shoulders slumped, looking lost and oblivious to the commotion. In a way, he was very lost, and Arianna didn't know how to help him except to be there when he needed her. He had disappeared while she was putting a load of laundry into the washer, so she settled the kids onto the sofa, put on a movie for them, and set out to find John.

She found him standing in the middle of their bedroom, looking like he was deep in thought. He was physically present but not mentally. Arianna called his name, and he sharply inhaled, coming out of whatever thoughts had bogged him down.

"Yea, Ma," he answered as he turned towards her voice.

When he realized that Arianna was calling his name, not his Mum and that they were in LA and not in Birmingham, he collapsed to the floor in a big pile of sorrow, sobbing uncontrollably. Arianna rushed to his side and gathered him into her arms as she sat beside him and rocked him gently as she would one of the kids. She held him as he cried and cried, her heartbreaking as she felt the pure anguish pouring out of him. When his tears finally ended, he sat up and wiped his face, looking at her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, but she just smiled at him.

"Nothing to be sorry for," she assured him, touching his face while she continued to smile. He looked deep into her eyes, and what she saw there haunted her. Such sorrow, such pain, and there was nothing she could do to relieve any of it.

"It just hurts. Right here," he told her, pointing to his chest, and a memory flooded her brain. She had said that exact thing to Nick that night in Munich.

Once again, she hugged John fiercely tight, hoping that her love could chase away some of his pain. He slowly wrapped his arms around her, and she felt him relax against her. They stayed in the embrace for a few moments until John pulled back and looked into her eyes as he cupped her face in his hands.

"I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you," he told her, weakly smiled, and then leaned in, gently kissing her.

Tentatively, his hands roamed her body, almost like he was exploring her for the first time. As his passion grew in his kiss, he gently laid her back onto the floor, covering her body with his as he lost himself in her. He slowly undressed her, exploring her with his hands and his mouth as if he were relearning how their love was between them. He made love to her slowly, gently, and tenderly, sharing himself with her as he used his body to express his love and gratitude for her. After they had both climaxed, they lay in each other's arms. John lifted himself, looking lovingly down at her.

"What?" Arianna responded, looking at him with a curious smile.

"You are so much better than getting drunk," he told her, and she felt herself pale.

So he had been thinking about drinking. Given his past, she knew it was a natural impulse for him, but now that those feelings had been confirmed, she knew she needed to be extra vigilant. She needed to circumvent those desires in any way that she could.

"But I feel like I just used you," he added, so she vehemently shook her head.

"No, you didn't. You need me right now, and I am here. I always will be. I would so much rather you use me than coke or vodka," she told him, and he shut his eyes, bowing his head. "Is your want for that stuff bad? Do you really want to use?" she asked, and he sighed.

"Yes, and no. I know that all it would do would be numb the pain for a little while. But the consequences would be dire. I know it's better to feel and deal with rather than avoid my feelings. But this is almost too much. I feel physical pain. I feel like a part of me died with her," he explained and then pulled away from her.

She watched as he got to his feet and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. And being naked and alone on the floor made her suddenly feel a bit used. Like he had taken what he needed at that moment, and now he didn't need her. But he did. He needed her desperately. She just needed to make sure that he didn't shut her out. She couldn't allow him to do that. 

She sat up and grabbed her clothes, pulling them back on as she wondered what he was doing in the bathroom. Were there any prescription drugs in the medicine cabinet in there? Just because he didn't have cocaine didn't mean he wouldn't try to numb himself with something else. She got to her feet, feeling conflicted about not trusting him in the bathroom by himself. She was just about to go over and knock on the door when the door opened, and he hurriedly came out, going right to her. He threw his arms around her, hugging her tight, as he released a huge, shuddering sigh.

"I love you so very much, Arianna Fields," he told her, so she tightened her grip on him.

"I love you too, John Taylor," she responded, and a moment later, he pushed his lips to hers.