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John relaxed against Brandon and soon fell asleep. Brandon stayed with him for a while and curled up as John's sleeping form spooned up against him, seeking the security of Brandon's arms.



After about an hour, Brandon emerged from the bedroom. Veronica was sitting at the dining room table with the video and all of her notes. She lowered her glasses and smiled.



"How's he doing?" She asked.



"He's sleeping. I don't know how you do this, Roni? Getting into someone's head is one thing but John's a friend," he said, joining her at the table.



"Back in the beginning, I thought that maybe I was the best one to help John for that very reason but I don't think that I can. I think that I am in way over my head here and I'm not really sure what to do." Veronica cried in her husband's arms.



"I know more about him than a stranger would and I think it's made it easier for him to open up about some of this stuff. He doesn't have to explain things because he knows I already understand. I'm just so worried that he's not going to be willing to seek the help that he really needs." Veronica was beside herself.



"The one I'm worried about is Abby. I don't know how much of this stuff she knows about," Brandon shrugged.



"Well, if I know John at all, I doubt if she knows any more than what we've shared with her," Veronica said.



"I'm sure you're right, he isn't really very forthcoming with any of this. Even in Atlanta he found it very hard to open up and talk about what happened to him and why he started using," Brandon explained.



"I have to talk to him, I have to tell him that I can't do this any more that he needs to find someone that specializes in not only in PTSD but also in sexual abuse cases, and suicidal tendencies. When I started this I had no idea that I would discover so many different things. I just don't know how he has managed to live through all of this and still take on such a stressful career."



Veronica turned around and found John standing at the top of the stairs, the look on his face was that of pure fear.



"John, Honey, can you come down here for a minute," Veronica called up to him knowing that he had heard what she had been discussing with Brandon.



John slowly descended the stairs keeping a watchful eye on both Veronica and Brandon.



"Have a seat, I need to talk to you." Veronica suspected that he would try to resist.



"That's okay, I'll stand, besides I heard what you said, I heard that you don't want to help me any more," he choked.



"Honey, please just try to understand, I don't know how to help you. John, there are just too many things that I just wasn't expecting and I believe that you need more than what I can give you.



"But I don't want anyone else, I know that we can do this. I know that if you would just help me I could get better." John stammered not wanting Veronica to give up on him.



"John, there's nothing in this world I want more than to see you find your way through this. I just don't have the expertise that you need," Veronica held out her arms to give him a hug.



John stood almost frozen. He took hold of one of Veronica's hands but when she tried to pull him to her, he pulled away.



"I'll go pack my bags." He stood almost paralyzed, as he sank into his own world.



Brandon had been sitting silently the entire time. "John, you don't have to leave." His words seemed lost as John turned and practically ran back up stairs.



~~~~~~~~~~



"You know what I think John needs?" Veronica continued to watch where John had disappeared to.



"What?" He asked.



"Have you noticed how he was clinging to you earlier?" She asked.



"Not really." Brandon said in a light tone.



"One thing I've been noticing is that John does likes sex." Veronica said seriously. "Honey, I think he needs you right now, to keep him from withdrawing completely. I'm thinking maybe you should go to him," she suggested. "It seems to be something that he thinks he can control. You know, he may have had a rough time getting here but that man has found some sense in his ability to perform and I think he finds it therapeutic. He always seems better after he's had it. Better mentally. It's a way that he'll accept someone caring for him. I just hope that now that he's realized the truth about Nicole, he still trusts in his emotions relating to sex. I was thinking that maybe this would be a good time to show him that someone can still have sex with him and truly care about him," she explained.



"Are you saying that I should have sex with him?" Brandon asked.



"No, I'm just saying that John had recently lost his entire male support system, Honey. All his fellow co-workers have gone, or at least the ones he felt close to. He only has Abby's ex boyfriend left. John is feeling very alone and I think he gets something special from you. You are very special to him and I think he needs you so much right now."



~~~~~~~~~~~~



Brandon came up the stairs quietly and he could hear the shower running. He looked at the bed and saw all of John's belongings tossed in a pile ready to be packed in his bag, which was also on the bed. It hurt Brandon to see how troubled John was in his own mind and he was surprised that he hadn't turned to drugs much earlier than he did.



"Hey, you in there, doctor?" Brandon asked from the door.



"I needed a shower," John called, his voice lacking energy.



"You okay?" Brandon asked. John was silent. "John?"



"Uh, yeah," John's voice cracked. He was obviously crying. Brandon pulled the shower curtain away enough to see John.



"John, hey," Brandon said.



John turned away. "Leave me alone, Brandon," he said, annoyed.



"Can I come in?" Brandon asked.



"No." John rinsed his head under the stream. Brandon reached out to touch John's shoulder and John jerked away. "I said leave me alone!" he said raising his voice and shooting an evil look toward Brandon.



"What made you so angry? Come on, Baby. It's me."



"Don't!" John stated, turning off the water and reaching past Brandon for a towel.



"Don't what?" Brandon stepped back.



"Don't call me that. You don't have any right calling me that." John vigorously rubbed his skin dry before stepping out of the shower stall. Satisfied with his dryness, he wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out.



"What the hell are you talking about?" Brandon questioned.



"Why the hell do you care?" John snapped, walking past Brandon and going into the guest room to get dressed.



"John, will you fucking stop for a minute and talk to me? What the hell are you talking about? I thought you liked it when I called you that. What do you mean I don't have the right?" Brandon demanded.



John was putting clothes into the suitcase angrily, not finding what he was looking for.



"Why the hell do you care? When we were in Atlanta, we were, well, we got close. Then a year goes by and there you are, suddenly in my life, seducing me into bed with you? You didn't bother to tell me that Kerry was behind the whole thing. The only reason why you even contacted me was because Kerry asked you to." John spat, his face showing his rage. Brandon tried to speak but his voice failed. John was right.



"That doesn't mean that I never thought about you." Brandon finally managed. John found his boxers and put them on, laughing sarcastically to himself.



"Oh, that makes me feel better. Thanks for the sentiment." He snapped. Brandon wasn't sure what to say.



"Well, John, the phone and mail work both ways," Brandon tried.



John stopped and looked at him. John had tears in his eyes.



"You were a married man, Brandon. You made it very clear that you were married. You used to parade Veronica around on visiting day like some prize!" He picked up a pair of jeans and put them on.



"John, are you telling me that you were in love with me?" Brandon questioned. Could John possible be telling him that he included Brandon in his long list of people who had toyed with his feelings, his emotions? John pulled out a wrinkled t-shirt from his bag and pulled it over his head. Every once in a while, John would glance up at him but Brandon stood there, speechless. John slipped his shoes on and began stuffing the rest of his clothes into his bag.



"Will you please call me a cab?" He asked, his anger still very clear. Brandon just stood there.



"John, what I feel for you is real. I didn't act on it before because I do love my wife. That doesn't mean I don't love you."



"Yeah, well, I'm not in the mood to be your fucking kept boy, okay? Right now, the two of you have me so fucked up in my head; I don't know what I want, okay? I just know I need to get away!" John picked his bag up off the bed and headed down the stairs.



"John? What's going on? Brandon?" Veronica was startled seeing John come down the stairs like his pants were on fire. Brandon looked totally flustered.



"John has decided that the only reason we've paid any attention to him is because Kerry asked us to. He's decided he doesn't want to be, what was the term you used, John? Fucking kept boy?" Brandon said, shrugging.



Veronica looked at John, totally shocked as he put his jacket on.



"John? What is going on, Honey?" Veronica stood looking completely bewildered.



"Look, I appreciate all you two feel that you have done for me but honestly, all you've done is make my life a living hell and thanks to you, I now remember all the exciting, life molding events that have helped me become the fuck up that I am today. Since Brandon finds it beyond his abilities to call me a fucking cab, I'll see the two of you when I get to hell!" John picked up his bag and slammed the door on his way out. Veronica stood there in total shock.



"I sent you up there to have sex with him." She said quietly. Brandon was putting on his jacket.



"Well, obviously he wasn't in the mood. I've got to go after him, Roni. John just admitted he includes me in that list of heartbreakers and I've got to go after him," he explained.



"Go, Honey, please." Veronica said, watching her husband run after John.





"John? Come on, John, don't make me run after you!" Brandon called. John had gotten farther down the drive than Brandon had expected and the older man had quite a run to catch up with him. John stopped and turned around, his face streaked with tears. Brandon bent over, trying to catch his breath.



"Are you all right?" John asked, watching Brandon trying to get his breath. Brandon nodded.



"You walk fast," he gasped.



"Yeah, well, I do that sometimes," John, said, trying not to look at Brandon, at least not in his eyes. He already felt bad for saying such cruel things to the man.



"Let me at least drive you to the airport, okay? Will you let me do that for you, John?" Brandon offered, thinking it was something at least that he might accept. John shifted from foot to foot, thinking how far it was back into the city and he wasn't sure he wanted to walk the whole way this late.



"Just don't make me talk, okay?" He finally said.



"John?" Brandon asked.



John shook his head, turned back around, and took several steps.



"Stop! Fine, John, I promise I won't make you talk." Brandon held out his hand.



John looked at it but chose to stay one step behind the man, keeping a safe physical distance.



~~~~~~~~~~~~



Veronica and Brandon rode up front while John rode silently in the back, looking out the window. They drove for over an hour, the tension in the car was stifling. Veronica tried every textbook approach to get John to talk but none worked. Finally, they pulled up to the airport.



"Just let me off in the loading zone," John finally broke his silence.



"John, at least let us come in with you. We can help you get a flight," Brandon insisted.



"No. I'll just go on standby. I know a trick or two to get a flight quickly," he stated, getting his bags ready. Brandon didn't want him jumping from the car so he pulled into the loading zone and turned the car off.



"John, don't leave this way," Veronica begged as he got out of the car. She had stepped out of her side and was standing there, willing to run after him. John stopped and smiled at her. He stepped back to her, his face a picture of calmness.



"Veronica, you are one hell of a woman. Thank you for allowing me a taste of true class," he said quietly. Then John kissed her. His mouth was hungry and his passion focused. He kissed her like she was a passionate lover and they were all alone in this world. His hands wrapped around her and his body pressed against hers as she moaned in his fervor. After several heated moments, he pulled away and simply looked at her. Veronica couldn't speak. His kiss had made her weak in the knees and had taken her breath completely away. He stepped away and smiled. Brandon was standing next to him.



"John, please, don't go, we need to talk about this," Brandon pleaded. John stepped up to him and the younger man held his finger up to Brandon's lips.



"Don't talk," John whispered, stroking Brandon's face. "You are a man like none other." John caressed Brandon's face tenderly, not caring who saw. "I could have loved you, Brandon. You have become so many things to me. You have been my father, my friend, and my lover. Thank you," he said and then he leaned in and began kissing Brandon in the same manner that he'd kissed Veronica.



Brandon had told himself that John would never have the guts as he watched him turn Veronica into putty, but as John pressed against him, all thoughts left his head. He had never kissed him even close in comparison and Brandon forgot everything. The kiss lasted an eternity, reaching the older man in places that had never been so stimulated. Finally, John pulled away.



"Thank you both," he whispered to Brandon. Then he picked up his bags and walked through the crowd that had begun to gather, a smile on his face. Veronica and Brandon both looked at each other.



"What the hell was that about?" Brandon exclaimed quietly.



"He does have one hell of a way of saying goodbye," Veronica stated, still breathless as John went out of sight.



~~~~~~~~~~~~



John checked in with his airline, got on standby status, and proceeded to the nearest coffee stand. It was late and he needed the caffeine. It wasn't until he handed the cashier the money when he realized how much his hand was shaking.



"Thank you," he said, flashing his smile and taking a seat in the waiting area. It wouldn't take long. Sometimes, being a doctor helped.





"Dr. Carter, we're preparing to land." The stewardess awakened John. He had just managed to fall asleep. He'd gotten a seat on a red-eye and arrived at O'Hare at about 3 am. Thankful that he had his Jeep, he was able to quickly make his way home.



John crept quietly through the apartment. Abby was not expecting him home and he wanted to surprise her. He left his bags near the door and stopped in the kitchen for a glass of water. When he was on his way to his room, he noticed a man's suit jacket hanging on the back of a chair.



At first he smiled at the idea that it was his own and that Abby had dragged it from the closet to keep it close to herself while he was away, a reminder of him that carried his scent to comfort her.



He picked up the jacket and started for his room. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was not his after all. Fear and uncertainty washed over him as his hand met with the door handle. His heart began pounding deep inside his chest as he tried to still his nerves. He couldn't open the door for fear of what he might find on the other side. Would Abby be wrapped in another man's arms?



All the jumbled thoughts and emotions from the past twenty-four hours came rushing back to the surface. The uncertainty, the fears, the feelings of unworthiness and abandonment, every thought, and every memory suddenly began flashing before his eyes. The very idea of another man in his bed suddenly brought back memories of the many women who had cheated on him in his past. Nicole had been the first but she had certainly not been the last.



It was at that moment that John truly realized that Nicole had indeed stolen his innocence and set him on a perpetual road of unhappiness. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach.



Without even thinking, he dropped the jacket, entered his room, and went straight for the toilet.



Abby woke to the sound of John retching; she sleepily dragged herself from the bed. As she sat to give herself a moment to wake up, she turned on the lamp and saw the jacket on the floor.



At first, she thought of John and the fact that he was home early. Had he found the jacket and thought that she would be in bed with another man? She grew angry at the idea that he could possibly think such a thing. Is that why he was sick? Well, he deserved to be sick if that is all he thought of her. 'How could he believe that the moment he turned his back that she would just jump at the chance to bring another man into their bed. How dare he think that she would do such a thing?'



Her anger got the best of her as she flew off the bed and threw open the bathroom door. She was overcome by a strong urge to lash out at him.



"The jacket belongs to my brother. You're such an ass, I can't believe that you would think that I would..." She stopped when she realized that her words fell on deaf ears. She was petrified by what she saw. He was sitting with his back to the wall with his head against his knees, rocking back and forth and humming to himself. The silent tears poured from his eyes, he took no notice of her presence. He recoiled even farther as he curled up in a ball on the cold floor.



Abby realized that there was something wrong with the way he was acting and knelt down next to him. The moment she placed her hand on him, he recoiled even farther.



"Please don't. Don't touch me." His voice was soft and child-like. Abby had a flashback of her own of the night he broke the mirror. This time, she'd have to deal with it on her own.



"John, it's me, Abby," she was beginning to feel helpless; she had no idea what to do to help him.



"Abby is everything okay in there?" Eric called. He picked up the jacket in the doorway and entered Abby's room. He had heard her yelling at someone and was concerned for her.



"I'm not sure," she called back. Eric stepped into the bathroom and saw Abby kneeing next to a body curled up on the floor.



Eric had been around others on several occasions to recognize the signs of some sort of post trauma recollection. Some of his best friends had seen war up close and personal and still experienced flashbacks and nightmares. Abby had told him of the stabbing and it didn't surprise him a bit that John would still remember.



"Flashback?" Eric asked as he stepped forward holding out his hand to his sister. Abby had filled him in on what John was going through and she was surprised to find out that Eric was very familiar with PTSD and it's signs and symptoms. He witnessed hundreds of cases while in the Gulf.



"Yeah, I just don't know what to do, I can't just leave him like this." Abby shook her head as she took his hand and stood to meet him. Holding her close for a moment, he broke away from her and stooped down near John.



"John, my name is Eric, I'm Abby's brother. Can you tell me what happened?" Eric spoke in a very soothing tone and then waited for John's response.



John slowly pulled himself up to a sitting position and looked around at Eric and then at Abby. They could see that he was still very confused.



"John, are you all right?" Eric stepped back and offered his hand to help John up.



John drew in a deep breath and exhaled heavily as his mind began to clear. He nodded at Eric as he took his offered hand and allowed Eric to help him up.



Still feeling a bit disoriented, John went to the sink and ran the water until it was warm. He washed his face and took out his toothbrush to brush his teeth.



"Do you remember what happened, John?" Abby asked as she stood next to him. He nodded as he spat in the sink and rinsed his mouth. Abby handed him a towel.



"Yeah," he answered drying his face.



Abby reached to stroke his cheek. He drew her into his arms and held her tight.



"I missed you so much," he whispered.



"Uh hum, Abby I think I'll just go put on some coffee," Eric offered.



"Oh hey, thanks, Eric, you can go back to bed if you would like. I'll be out soon, and I think John just needs to get some sleep." Abby turned and smiled.



John and Abby sat together on the edge of the bed. Abby swept her hands through his hair as he leaned against her shoulder.



"I think I need to call Veronica, I guess I should have just stayed in Albany," John stuttered. "Today was a very bad day and I left after saying some things that I shouldn't have," he admitted.



"Baby, did you think that I was cheating on you?" Abby seemed to need to know.



"It wasn't like that," John sat up and pulled away from her. "I saw the jacket on the chair and at first I thought it was mine. I thought maybe you had been wearing it, you know because it reminded you of me. I picked it up to put it away and was right at the door when I realized it wasn't mine. I just froze and yeah, for a second, I did think that maybe I didn't want to know what was going on in here, but I kept trying to tell myself that 'no way, Abby would never do that.' I wanted so badly to believe that. I wanted to believe that I knew you better than that but my mind just began to do some weird stuff. It's been a hell of a day, Abby. I just got caught up in the past. But today, I realized that what happened to me at age 11 was wrong. Nicole was an adult and had no business doing what she did. I was just a kid. She stole something very precious from me and it has had a very serious and lasting effect on my life. It's been a day full of memories, fighting, yelling and I can't go back and change it. I left them standing there speechless, Abby. I hurt them, I told them they were just like all the others and I hurt them." John leaned over to rest against Abby's shoulder. "I'm so tired of feeling this way," he whispered.





To be continued…………..
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