Can't Stop (Frusciante fan fic)

Part 43-Never the Same Since I Lost You

A/N: Need to get some newer pictures of John. Next chapter title is in honor of Layne Staley, RIP to him. I listened to "Dirt" twice through on a long drive tonight. ;)

John's POV

Marcia grabs the phone out of my hand and I try to grab it back. "Marcia, please.." Flea protests. Marcia runs to the other side of the room, where it seems she's found Ellie under my contacts and is already dialing. I chase her across the room, but she just runs into the kitchen. "Get away from me, John!" She screams.

"Marcia, leave her alone, I didn't mean call her now, Jesus!" I say, standing across the table from her.

"Hello, yes, I'm trying to reach Ellie, is this, um, Sophie?" Marcia asks. I flinch. "Marcia, give me the damn phone." After a second, "I'm John's girlfriend, Sophie, and I need to talk to your mother." There is a brief pause. "OK, honey, if your Mom's asleep and you won't wake her, perhaps you can give me some information." She pauses. "It seems that just before you were born your mother was a teenage bride, though she wasn't married, with a baby inside, as in one of your favorite songs, no doubt. Great role model," she sneers.

"Marcia, give me the fucking phone NOW!" I yell, chasing her around the table. She runs out the door onto the deck and slams it, running down the stairs as she berates Sophie. "John.." Flea enters the kitchen as I pound my fist on the table, trying to calm me.

Ellie's POV

I manage to fall asleep despite feeling upset and overwhelmed. I knew this was coming and shouldn't be feeling this way. It's probably been an hour or two since I was awake, and figure I should get up.

I hear Sophia talking to someone on the phone. I walk out to the living room to check on her. I smile, hoping she is talking to John.

"Um, uh, I don't know how old my Mom is, why does it matter?" I hear her saying shakily. Sophie looks me in the eyes, appearing bewildered and scared. I can hear a female voice yelling through my phone at her. I'm pretty sure who this is. I run to grab the phone out of Sophie's hand.

"Hi, Marcia, this is Ellie. Listen.." I start, angrily. How dare she harass my child? Me, fine, but Sophie is innocent in all this. "So, finally the girl who's fucking my boyfriend who is twice her age. Isn't that right, Ellie?" She lashes out at me. I feel my face turning red. Sophia just heard every word, I'm sure, and I signal to her with my hand to go to the kitchen where her father is, doing Lord knows what.

"Marcia, I don't know whether to apologize to you, which you do deserve, but I'm going to tell you something else first," I say, teeth gritted. "You can yell at me all you want. And I would probably deserve it. But no one, including you, NO ONE speaks to an 8-year-old child that way, especially not mine! I don't know where you get off. Wait a minute," I say before I'm about to continue my rant at her. "You really think I'm half John's age?" I'm very confused. She's younger than I am.

"You look to be a teenager in that photo with your daughter," she explains, still in that snotty voice. "It would be just like John to go the way of Anthony and his barely legal whores. I knew he shouldn't be hanging out or working with him!" I know I should be angry, but I crack up laughing.

"Oh, OK, now you think this is funny, well, see how you like it when I..," she starts to rant but I interrupt her. "Look, I was 34 years old when I had my one and only daughter that you just insulted. I don't know whether to thank you for underestimating my age, or to make fun of you for not seeing, even though you supposedly have good visual perception, that of course someone is going to look younger than their age in a T-shirt and no makeup!" I assume she's seen the picture of me with Sophie at the concert.

She doesn't say anything. "So yeah, that's how old I am, which, by the way, I love being reminded of," I say sarcastically. I realize I haven't told her my actual age. "You can do the math."