Notes: I did it again after watching tonight's syndicated rerun. And it could be considered Beth and Glenna's fault 'cause they're holding out on me while I'm craving SJR in a bad way. :-)

The moment John disappeared from the screen, my heart fell to my knees. Thoughts ran though my mind one on top of the next. I can't lose him too. Jack can't have him. I won't let him have him. Not John. Not now, not after . . .

The time we spent searching for him is a blur to me. It is instead when we found him, whole and safe, that will remain burned into my memory.

He's been one of my closest friends since I came to the VCTF, something I might never have expected not so long ago. The thought of losing that friendship stirs something deep inside. Yet, that isn't what tore through my chest when I feared him lost to Jack's sick game.

I don't think even I realized what I was feeling, until I rushed into the room where John had been held and saw him standing there. He looked at me and it was all I could do not to run to his side.

Even still, I had to touch him. I had to know he was really there, not stolen as so many of those I care about have been. I reached my hand out, touching his shoulder, his chest. I could feel the faint flicker of a heartbeat beneath my near-trembling fingertips.

Tears pricked at the back of my eyes and I blinked them quickly away. They were as much a result of his leaning into my hesitant touch, as being assured of his safety.

When he wrapped his arm around me, and kissed the side of my face without so much as a thought, something clicked. Inside I knew neither of us were acting at that moment. The relief I felt, and the devotion he showed, were as real as I had ever known. Here was a man who had been kidnaped and tortured all because of me, yet it was he who sought to comfort me.

I leaned into his warmth, if only for a second. Glancing at his face I cataloged every scratch, every bruise that he suffered through because of me. The guilt had barely had time to form before I met his gaze. His blue eyes were glowing with determination and I knew it was equal parts determination to find Jack and to not allow me the guilt that was trying to form.

I nodded slightly, easily recognizing his thoughts. There is a connection between us, an understanding that comes from deep inside. It is as if I can see a side of him he carefully hides from the rest of the world. I knew it first when he was shot. Later he let me see inside his walls, seeking to comfort me by telling me of his own pain. It is a fragile gift he has given to me, and I smile faintly thinking about it.

The contact lasts but a few scant moments and I lean into it slightly before reluctantly letting go. Even after we have pulled apart, I can still feel the ghost of his lips pressed against my face.

The hardest part of our charade is when the emotions being projected aren't as much fine acting, but rather the confused tumbling of our hearts. Although he moves to stand some distance from me as we continue to search the scene, when I meet his gaze I know. I can see that he feels the same uncertainty that I do.

The only question is what to do about it when the charade is over, and the feelings do not disappear. A final quick glance in his direction and I'm suddenly sure of one thing, whatever happens, I won't have to face tomorrow alone.

end