Work Text:
John Smith stood in the bathroom adjoining his office at SS Headquarters, leaning heavily on the sink and staring at his torn face. There were already stitched wounds on his eyebrow and cheek. He had to wash off the remaining dried blood and change his bloody shirt before he returned home. Bill's words reached him from the depths of the office:
- The car is waiting for you. Should I call Helen and let her know?
- What?? - John was slightly confused.
- Does Helen know what happened?
- No... I didn't want to worry her. Nothing happened in the end.
Bill handed him a clean shirt.
- Do you need help? - looking at John, he wasn't sure if he could handle it on his own.
Then everything happened automatically. Bill insisted on escorting him and keeping an eye on him all the way to his apartment door. Fortunately, he managed to get rid of it at the elevator to the apartment. John was silent the whole way home. The doctor said he had three broken ribs on the left side and probably a concussion. Probably, because of course John wouldn't let me take him to the hospital. The doctor had to perform all activities in the infirmary of the SS Headquarters.
After opening the elevator, he entered the hall as quietly as he could in his current state. The apartment was dark and quiet. Luckily, the girls were at school camp, and Helen was probably asleep in the bedroom - he didn't intend to wake her up.
He immediately headed towards the office. He had been sleeping in it for several months. He closed the door behind him and slowly began to undress. He took off his coat and uniform jacket. Every time he moved he felt like screaming, his ribs felt tight and his head was spinning. However, he got hit more than he expected. He realized this now that the painkillers were wearing off. He sat down heavily on the couch and decided that this was all he could give. Trying to regulate his breathing, he began to analyze what had actually happened.
He was returning in a limousine from one of the headquarters meetings when a collision occurred near the headquarters. The car they were driving in was completely swept off the road by another vehicle. John only felt a strong tug and his head hitting the car window. Then there was silence... He regained consciousness a moment later as someone pulled him out of the car by his arms. These were his soldiers.
Only later, upstairs, Bill reported that it was another attack and the Resistance driver decided to commit a suicide attack on the Reichsmarschall. Another attack… His security wasn't doing so well anymore. It was high time for his family to be safely moved to the safe house, he would take care of that tomorrow... Today John just wanted to sleep and rest. He felt so much pain, every breath required concentration, his aching chest was burning with fire, his head was throbbing in rhythm with his heartbeat, his eyes couldn't focus on one point without a superhuman effort... He just wanted to sleep... Helen... Where was Helen? His wife? I need her. He slowly leaned to the side and swam away…
That night, Helen was in their once-shared bedroom, but she was not sleeping. Every night she knew when John came home, later and later. She hasn't come out to greet him for a long time...
In the morning Helen went into the kitchen. She looked thoughtfully at the counter. It was empty. John always left a cup with half-drunk coffee... Suddenly the phone rang. Helen walked over and picked up the phone.
- Good morning Helen - it was Bill - I wanted to ask how John is feeling?
-Yyyyy, okay, thank you Bill…
- I hope he's not going to the office, tell him everything's under control.
- Bill, what's going on, what happened? - Helen didn't know what Bill was talking about and was starting to panic.
- John will definitely tell you everything, I have to go.
With her heart pounding, Helen hung up the phone and looked around the apartment. Everything was in order. She slowly made her way to John's office door and raised her hand to knock. Nobody spoke. She didn't try a second time, she immediately pressed the door handle and now, completely terrified, entered the office.
- John...? - she whispered and then, in the twilight of the morning, she saw him lying on the couch, in his clothes from the previous day. The coat and jacket were abandoned on the floor. She got closer and saw his scarred face. Her knees immediately buckled and she fell to his side.
- John…! - she gently shook his shoulder - he didn't react. She touched his cheek, tilting his face towards her. No reaction.
"John!!," she shouted, and then she noticed he blinked. Her heart sank with relief. She let out a shaky breath, repeating his name over and over again. - Helen... - he sighed in pain and tried to get up, but he failed miserably. His ribs and head immediately protested sharply, hurting even more than yesterday. He now concentrated all his strength on catching and regulating his breathing.
Next to him, Helen was panicking and asking over and over again what had happened, what had happened...
When he finally managed to sit up, he managed to say:
- Helen, calm down, it just looks so bad, there's really nothing wrong with me... We had a little car accident, that's all...
- God, John, what are you talking about? - Despite everything, she began to calm down slightly.
- What's wrong with you? Your face…” She raised her hand, intending to turn it to the light, but John involuntarily hissed and cringed to avoid the touch.
- The doctor saw it, put a few stitches and it was over.
- There's something else wrong with you, just don't lie.
John couldn't bring himself to look his wife in the eye.
- Three ribs, but I just need to rest.
- God... - Helen couldn't believe what was happening, she tried to sort it out in her head, explain it...
John, on the other hand, decided that he needed to go to the bathroom and finally change yesterday's clothes. Just getting up from the couch was harder than he expected and than he let on to Helen. He was sure he was about to fall, but Helen managed to hold him up at the last moment, and he leaned against the wall with his other hand.
- I'll help you... - she whispered.
- I can handle it - he couldn't stand it if Helen helped him change his clothes now. It was an irrational feeling of shame when all he had dreamed about for the past weeks was his wife's touch.
Carefully, keeping his hand on the wall, he walked step by step to the bathroom. Helpless Helen could only watch him away. Her heart almost broke as she watched her husband like this, knowing that he had rejected her help.
Not knowing what to do while waiting for John in the kitchen, she prepared tea. Tea, as if that would help. She wanted to call Bill or Eric and demand that they explain to her what this all meant.
When John finally emerged from the bathroom, he was dressed in sweatpants and a white T-shirt, but he looked very weak, was really pale, and was limping badly, leaning to one side, trying not to strain the side of his body with broken ribs.
After what seemed like an age, he reached the dining room table and, holding his ribs protectively, sank heavily into a chair.
- Helen, please give me a glass of water...
He didn't even have to speak because Helen was already halfway to him. She watched him anxiously all the time, wanting to catch his every uncertain move.
- You have to go away with the girls...
- John…
- It's getting more and more dangerous in the Reich, you have to disappear...
- John…
- I have everything prepared, Bill will help you...
- John... - but John didn't hear her, he was in a trance, he was looking through the glass wall at the New York skyline, but he couldn't see anything. His mind was trying to put everything together logically and was already looking into the future. Suddenly he felt a strong grip on his hand and this drew his attention to the woman sitting next to him. Helen stared at him with concern and silent pleading in her eyes. His gaze finally caught hers.
- I have to go to the office...
- Are you frivolous?! You can barely stand, I won't let you go anywhere!
- I'm doing everything to keep you safe...
- Who will protect us if something happens to you?
- Maybe only then will you be truly safe... - he whispered, lowering his head.
These words made Helen's breath catch in her chest. What was he talking about...
Then John incautiously took a breath, which sent another arrow of pain through his body. Holding his breath and closing his eyes tightly, he leaned back in the chair.
"You must lie down immediately," Helen decided in a tone that brooked no objections.
Reluctantly, John was forced to admit she was right. He felt like he might lose consciousness, his head was spinning, and his vision was getting dark. He felt like he was about to fall into a dark abyss, plunge into a dark, suffocating darkness, and there was no helping hand around to catch him, no one willing to help him...
Suddenly he felt a strong hand around his waist, helping him gently stand up.
- Come on... Slowly... Let me help you... - it was the voice of his wife, his Helen, she was next to him, maybe all is not lost after all....
He didn't even know how he had ended up in their bedroom when he sat on the edge of the bed and saw Helen kneeling in front of him, still holding his arms. He didn't have the strength to fight anymore, he wanted to give up, let them do whatever they wanted to him... this was his end.
- I failed you... You, girls... Thomas... I don't deserve you... - his whisper was barely audible, and tears slowly rolled down his cheeks. He wondered where the tears came from? He couldn't cry anymore, monsters don't cry.
When these words reached Helen, her heart finally broke. How could he say that, he did everything he could to protect them. She was the one who put everything on his shoulders, she was the one who broke him, she was the one who left him. Because of her, her husband was now a shadow of his former self.
- I don't deserve you... I heard you came back yesterday... I wasn't interested. I left you alone when you needed me... I will never forgive myself for this... If something happened to you... - she couldn't speak any longer, she burst into tears. It was all too much. She couldn't let this destroy them. She felt John's hand cupping her cheek, and instinctively she immediately snuggled into that dear, warm, familiar hand.
- I love you, Helen... - he whispered.
- John, please forgive me...
When she looked up at his face, she saw his eyes, clouded with tears and pain, staring at her with love and hope. She placed a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth and gently leaned him onto the bed. As he drifted off, he felt the warmth of her body next to his and the comforting weight of her hand on his chest.