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John was five when he noticed that something was different with people around him.
“Ma?” He tugged his mother’s hand while walking in the shopping mall. She paused to see where he was pointing. “Why is there a light shining on those people?”
He turned towards her questioningly, and was too young to understand that smiles could also look sad. His mother squeezed his hand and told him, “It’s because they have found someone to love, who loves them back.”
John noticed that whenever his father got back from work, his house shone much brighter, and his mother’s smile lit up along with it. When he left, he seemed to take all the light away with him, and John waited, and waited, for him to be back again.
Until one day, he stopped coming altogether, and he wished he could do anything to illuminate the dark, dark room his mother was hiding in, crying for the light she had lost forever.
He was barely ten, when he realized that no matter how hard he tried, no matter how desperately he loved, he wouldn’t be able to brighten up anyone’s world.
And yet, wretched hope kept gnawing at his insides as he went through high school, watching his friends suddenly being plunged in bright, blinding light around him, waiting for it to someday light up his path as well, leading him towards someone to love, who loved him back.
It never did.
Not in college, not while he served in army, nor even in Special Forces, until there came a time he looked at his fellow soldiers kissing their wives, and wondered why anyone would even want something that blinding, something that made it hard to look at the person they loved, and harder still to look away.
Then he met Jessica. Oh, she was the brightest person he had ever seen, and when he reached out to touch her, his hands shook with awful, wretched hope; hope that maybe, just maybe, he would be able to share some of the light with her, will be able to illuminate her world with some small spark from his own heart as well. He didn’t.
“The world is bright enough for both of us,” she whispered fiercely as she tugged him down for a kiss. “We don’t need fate’s light to tell us who to love. We don’t need it.”
Desperately, he swallowed her words, letting them fill up his heart until there was no space for the doubts to linger.
And then, in a radiant, sunlit hotel room in Mexico, John found out that you couldn’t outrun the darkness. So he left the illusion of light behind, and embraced his destiny.
Kissing Kara was easy, for she was as dark as he was, and didn’t expect anything from him. They both were creatures of the night, looking for some company, their eyes not even accustomed to the light of the day anymore. So he let the dark devour him, let it wrap around his heart and body like an armor so that not even the idea of light could penetrate it anymore.
But he remembered too late that darkness begets a light of its own, a fire, that burns everything it touches and leaves only charred ashes behind. Ordos reminded him of that.
After that, he stopped looking, stopped hiding, not caring whether it was the light that took him first, or the darkness. He feared neither, and he belonged nowhere.
John waits outside the library, smiling at the two women bickering in front of him.
“Oh she’s beautiful,” Shaw runs her hand over the sleek black metal of the bike with reluctant awe. “You have a good choice.”
“That I do.” Root eyes Shaw from head to toe, making her huff in fake annoyance.
John grins. This is their usual song and dance. He doesn’t know why they even bother with it, because they obviously aren’t committed enough to make it believable.
“Can I drive?” Shaw asks, her posture exuding nonchalance, but John has known her long enough to know she is barely refraining from bouncing on her feet.
“Of course, sweetie.” Root throws her the keys, “You can have anything you want.”
Shaw is so intent on climbing on the bike that she forgets to pretend to be irritated by Root’s innuendo, motioning Root to climb behind her.
“Bye, Reese.”
“See you, big lug.”
And then, they drive off, Shaw violating all known speed limits. John watches the spotlight follow their bike as it weaves through the roads, making them stand out in the night until they mingle with all the other lights around them, much fewer at such a late hour, but still ever present.
“Mr. Reese,” he turns around at the name. “Sorry I took so long. I got distracted by a bug in the system and… are you quite alright, John?”
John watches Harold limp towards him, holding Bear’s leash in one hand, and can’t stop the smile from splitting his face. Doesn’t even try to.
Harold shines so bright, so radiant, that he thinks he ought to look away, and he had in the start, but some things were worth getting blinded for. Watching Harold’s face scrunch up in concern, a frown forming on his forehead, was one of them.
“Fine, Harold.” He tries to contain the emotions in his voice, but probably fails miserably at it.
“It’s just that, not that you don’t carry it well, but you have quite a deranged look on your face right now.”
The laughter seems to be punched out of his chest at the dry tone, and his restraint snaps. He grabs Harold by his wrist and pulls him closer, wrapping him in his arms.
“Just happy.” He breathes in the smell of Harold’s shampoo, and then kisses his hair, the fate’s light warm on his skin. He had waited so long for it, given up on ever finding it, but in the end, he wouldn’t change a thing. It’s worth it. It’s all worth getting to hold Harold in his arms like this. “I’m just happy.”
He pulls back a bit, and kisses Harold, his eyes long having adjusted to the brightness that accompanied Harold’s presence. Harold kisses him back, but John can tell he is still confused by his outburst.
“Don’t get me wrong Mr. Reese, I do appreciate it, but may I inquire what the reason for this sudden display of affection is?” Harold looks up at him, not even squinting against the light, not cowed by it; they're both too used to staring at the sun by now. There’s a shy, obviously pleased smile on his lips, and John has to give in to the urge and kiss them again.
“You,” he answers easily, when he pulls back at last.
“Oh.” Harold blushes, before pulling back entirely. John is disappointed for just a moment, before he notices the hand extended towards him. “Shall we?”
“Yes.” John grasps the hand, entwining their fingers, and together they step into forward into the dark of the night, no longer afraid that they might get lost in it.
They have each other to find their way back into the light, if they ever need to.