Work Text:
We see eye to eye, heart to heart
- James Blunt
Sometimes Morgan thinks the psych department of the NYU would have a field day with this. They’d call it an experiment in living in a hostile environment -- well, not entirely hostile. And not even outright hostile, it’s just that the majority of the people in this subway station have absolutely no clue what to make of her. So they avoid her, leave her alone for most of the time and only speak to her when it’s absolutely necessary. Maybe they think she’s a mole, that she has a direct line to Jedikiah and tells him every dirty little secret she can find.
It’s a stupid thought, because she didn’t find anything but dirt down here, and if she’d wanted to give away their location she’d have done so days ago. It doesn’t matter, though, because she’s Jedikiah’s girlfriend -- at least that’s what these people tell each other.
Doesn’t matter that it’s not true anymore, if it ever was -- that is. She could never lay claim to Jedikiah’s heart, nor did she ever try. She’s no one’s fool, and Jedikiah’s heart was never hers to win to begin with. Not that he’s ever admitted as much to her, but he didn’t need to.
Jedikiah’s love, and yes, it is love, no matter what he himself wants to call it, belongs to John.
Wholeheartedly.
Undivided.
Unconditionally.
It’s amazing how very obvious it is, and how much he tries to deny, to conceal it. She wonders if this is some kind of survival skill for him, if either it was locking away his feelings or going under. And Jedikiah doesn’t go under, that much she’s learned. He’d sacrifice nearly everything for his own survival, for what he believes is right -- including herself when push comes to shove.
But he’d never sacrifice John.
This is the sole reason why she finds it so amusing that Cara threatens her to get Jedikiah to do her bidding -- because she's never been his pressure point. Not that he wouldn’t try to protect her -- he did -- and she is very grateful for it. But he only did it because he had the opportunity to do so, without risking his head for her.
Maybe Jedikiah doesn’t dare to admit it to himself, but he’d let the world burn if it were to save John. She can’t even fault him for it since she’s met John. John is a genuinely nice person. He’s also what some would call the polar opposite of Jedikiah. Kind when Jedikiah would be harsh and demanding. Forgiving when Jedikiah would’ve already turned his back. It is easy to like John, and it is easy for her to see why Jedikiah would choose him. They do share surprisingly many traits: Head-strong, determined, stubborn … devoted for life. They also have an amazing capability for kindness -- John for everyone, Jedikiah for some few selected people.
So it doesn’t surprise her that it’s John who seeks her out with a cup of tea in his hands and an apologetic smile on his face.
“Cara wouldn’t use you as bait,” he says and offers her the tea.
“She already did,” she reminds him and sips at her tea. John has at least the decency to look remorseful.
“Yes, okay, but she wouldn’t just … hand you over to Ultra because Jedikiah tried to protect the Citadel. She’s impulsive, not cruel.”
And the thing is she believes that he believes this. She’s learnt that John has the tendency to assume the best of the people he cares about, fiercely believes in them even. He doesn’t see the darkness most of them carry within or maybe he just chooses to ignore it most of the time. She’s not sure yet. However, she doesn’t doubt that Cara would have delivered her straight to Ultra in a vain attempt to hurt Jedikiah. Maybe Cara would’ve realized that her action was pointless, but only after the fact.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” She asks.
“What?”
“That a place like the Citadel exists? That Jedikiah decided to protect it, that he was ready to shoot Cara because he wanted to keep a child prisoner?”
“The Citadel is a horrible place,” he says with vehemence, “and I’m glad we managed to get Charlotte out of there.”
“Doesn’t answer my question, John.”
“I … it’s Jedikiah … ” he eventually says and trails off, his shoulders sagging like all the air has left him. He somehow manages to look like a lost puppy, and she imagines he had the same air of loneliness and being lost around him when Jedikiah met him for the first time. John doesn’t say anything else, just the name, and she finds that this is all the explanation needed here. It is Jedikiah, after all. The man with so many conflicting character traits and shades to him that it made her head spin from time to time. And on the other side there is John, who is so friendly and good-hearted, and still the only of their kind she’s met who can actually kill - who has killed.
“I wish I knew how else to explain it,” he adds, but she shakes her head.
“I get it.”
“Yes, of course … I mean, you’re his … um … ” he scratches his head and won’t meet her eyes, and for a moment or two she’s very confused by his behavior before she gets this as well.
“Don’t worry about me, John,” she tries to assure him, but she only gets a confused look. He doesn’t get it. No matter his cleverness and the years he spent in Jedikiah’s pocket, he’s still unsure about his place in Jedikiah’s life. It would be funny if it weren’t so tragic and sad.
“But … he’s with you now,” he stutters, and then bites his lips as if he overstepped some invisible line. “I’m sorry, it’s really not my place to -- and it’s not like Jedikiah and I -- I mean -- ”
“John,” she says and raises her hand to get him to stop. “I know, okay? I know.”
He simultaneously looks like a huge burden lifted off his shoulders and like he wants to throw up.
“And I won’t tell anyone, promise,” she hastens to add before he has a chance to run away or collapse.
“But how?” He asks. She puts her teacup down, walks over to him and makes him sit down with gentle force. “I never talk about him. And he doesn’t talk about me either.”
“Not true.”
“What?”
“He does, talk about you, I mean. Not very much, but enough so I never operated under the illusion I was the one.”
“But he tried to shoot me!”
“And you could’ve killed him how many times now? And you never did,” she reminds him. “Love doesn’t make us sane, honey. Quite the opposite, I’m afraid.”
“What now?” He asks her, clear desperation in his voice, and she wishes she knew.
“Admitting you don’t actually want him dead seems like a good starting point.”
“And then?”
“Fumbling your way through? I don’t know.” She squeezes his shoulder. “I’m sorry I’m not more of a help.”
“No, it’s not your fault we are … whatever we are -- well, were.”
“Are,” she corrects him. “Whatever you are, believe me, it’s not over.”
“Is this a good or a bad thing now?”
“I prefer to think of it as a good thing,” she says, a smile on her lips, and he shakes his head at her.
“How did you do it? Being with him, I mean.”
“He’s a complicated man, full of shadows -- but there’s light in him as well. Light that’s worth being around for, and you … whenever he talked about you, no matter how briefly, that light seemed brighter. You anchor him, John, even when you’re absent.”
“Well,” John huffs, “he has a weird way of showing how much I mean to him.”
“I never claimed you two make much sense.”
“We truly don’t.”
“No, but you’ll figure it out nevertheless. I’m sure of it.” She takes her cup of tea and ruffles John’s hair. “You two are some of the smartest, most stubborn people I know, after all. And now I’ll get myself another tea. This one’s gone cold.”
- fin