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Jesus’ footsteps echo up the stairs and John can not look away.
Peter claps him on the shoulder and he finally turns, blinking out of the daze the haunted look on Jesus face put him in.
Why would He look so upset if Lazarus’ sickness wasn’t fatal?
Peter and the others, Little James and Nathaniel play another song and at first John tries to get into it, to nod his head and let the music soothe his worries. But after two, he realizes that it’s not working, that the only way he’ll be reassured is if he goes to comfort someone else.
He silently slips away when James and Philip start beating on their seats like drums. John makes his way quickly up the steps, not looking back to see or care if Peter traced his escape.
John passes the bedroom he’s been sharing with his brother, Andrew and Matthew here at the Inn and stops outside the closed door to Jesus’ room.
He knocks gently before opening the door and slipping quietly into the dark candlelit room.
Jesus is laying down on His bed, His back to John and the door behind him.
“Jesus?” He asks, keeping his voice whisper low as he checks to see if He has already fallen asleep.
He hears a deep breath, but Jesus doesn’t turn and His voice comes out tired when He speaks. “I’m okay, John.”
John closes the door softly behind him with a heavy heart. He takes a careful step toward the bed, toward the back of the most powerful being on the Earth and watches as Jesus stretches out slightly from His curled position.
“You don’t have to be.” John says softly, and Jesus finally turns over onto His back to smile sadly up at him when he stops at the edge of the bed.
Jesus pats the little space available beside Him before interlocking His fingers over His chest. “I suppose not.”
He mirrors Jesus’ sad smile as he sits on the edge of the bed by His head with his back against the frame.
“Lazarus will be alright.” John says, putting all the comfort he can into his words. This close he can see the lines of weariness even deeper by His eyes and the candlelight just highlights them further. “You said Yourself that it won’t end in death.”
John watches as Jesus’ eyes blink slowly, his eyelashes fluttering and shifting against his eyelids. The shine of tears are collecting at the corners but He does not make a sound or a breath that would indicate it. He wouldn’t even know they were there if he were not staring at them.
Reaching out a hand to the other side of Jesus’ head, John starts gently coming through the hair pooling around His pillow. He doesn’t even really comb the strands, just lightly petting and twirling some curls around his fingers at His temple. He hopes the touch is calming enough to dry His tears.
“I mean, even in the beginning when You spoke with Nicodemus that night.” He starts after a moment, keeping his voice tender. “You said everyone who believes in You will live forever.”
“Eternal life, yes.” Jesus says, and His tone sounds just as reverent and divine as it did that night. He looks up at John and raises an eyebrow slightly, the motion looking bizarre from upside down. The moisture at His temple and cheeks seem dry. “That seems to be a favorite of yours.”
John smiles, letting a soft chuckle slip through his teeth and he nods gently in agreement. He fingers drift down to trace over His ear softly before moving back up into His hair.
“I wonder why.” Jesus says, teasing but with a breath that seems more relaxed the longer John’s hand lingers.
He tilts His head slightly to the left to glance at John’s other hand settled on his own lap lightly and Jesus undoes the hold He has on His own fingers to grab at it. He pulls John’s free hand over and John lets it go willingly, settling it over Jesus’ chest. Jesus traps it under His left and matches the wordless caresses that John offers to the back of his knuckles.
“I do mean it.” He says, leaning further down into the warmth of Jesus and His bed. John’s voice seems to drop as well. “You don’t always have to hide away when You’re sad. We know You’re human too.”
Jesus’ eyes crinkle, furrowing lines appearing between His brows as a second string of water seems to collect behind His eyes.
“Yes.” He says simply, tracing the side of John’s hand without another word.
They spend a while in the quiet motion of their touches. Random lines are drawn on hands and forearms and through strands of dark curly hair and against rough material covering a strong beating heart.
When John’s fingers catch at the seam on the front of Jesus’ tunic for what seems to be the fifth time since he’s joined Him in the room, His voice vibrates under his fingertips.
“I know it’s hard on you and the others when I get upset.” He says, voice gentle. “And when I tell you something that doesn’t seem to make sense. But hard truths don’t make them any less true. Even for Me.”
John feels His chest expand under his touch in a deep breath and he watches as a contradiction of emotions pass over His face. Resignation, sadness, determination.
He looks up at John and His gaze still screams those things. “You have to keep your hearts open and meek.”
Nodding, John drifts his eyes away from His, instead watching his own fingers fall through dark curls. “We know.”
He looks back down to Jesus’ eyes after a second to see the look on His face transformed into one of amusement.
“We do.” John insists, with an embarrassing smile. “We just seem to forget it sometimes.”
“You must not forget it.” Jesus says, squeezing his hand and his amused smile turns serious. So serious and longing that John feels his hands still of their own accord. “When we go into Jerusalem, you must not forget it.”
The weariness in His gaze and the desperation in His tone remind him of that night in His tent long ago. The looming sense of heartbreak that has been building even more steadily sense Ramah was killed.
“Is it now, Rabbi?” He asks, lost in that headspace from that night and feeling like with everything that has happened lately, now is an appropriate time to ask. His fingers curl into His tunic slightly in terror. “The time that you spoke about in your tent?”
Jesus touches his fingers, relaxing them into his palm with soft circular motions. He shakes His head.
“I was wondering if you’d ever ask.” He says gently with another squeeze of his hand. “Not now but it’s soon. Very soon.”
The words very soon have John’s heart beating wild in his chest but Jesus looks away before he can comment and the shift of anguish in His eyes has John incapable of speaking even if he wanted to.
“When it happens, John.” Jesus says, His voice so soft and painful that he immediately starts moving his fingers through His hair again in attempt to fight the hurt. “It will be bigger than anything we’ve ever faced. Or will ever face again.”
He blinks back up at John and silent tears fall away from His cheeks.
“And you will be the one there with me.” Jesus’ voice is thick and John twists his fingers up to squeeze His hand this time. “To take care of My heart.”
John stares down at Him reverently, tears suddenly appearing in his eyes and slipping down his cheeks as if someone commanded them. He feels the overwhelming emotion get stuck in his throat and he’s struck silent, speechless at hearing similar yet somehow more powerful words than the ones he heard that night in His tent. The heart He speaks of beats firmly under their joined palms.
“But I know you.” Jesus continues with a fond shake of his head even though His eyes are still filled with an agony that John can’t describe. “My beloved, you get distracted by titles and authority easily and yes, this is something the Father and I have prepared for you.”
He shakes his head again slightly and this time John watches as His mouth trembles briefly under His beard. “But I fear you will not want this when it happens.”
John is the one to shake his head this time, another wave of silent tears that make his voice hoarse come streaming down his face. How could Jesus think he wouldn’t want anything that He would want to give him? Even if it hurt? Especially if it hurt?
“To be with You, to take care of You.” He starts, fingers fidgeting on Jesus’ chest like they’re trying to find the words somewhere in His body. John’s voice shakes more than his fingers. “I have never wanted anything more than that, I promise.”
“I know.” Jesus whispers comfortingly. He squeezes his trembling fingers, bringing them up to His lips. He closes His eyes as he kisses them and His voice tickles John’s skin just as much as His beard does. “I know.”
His words and His kiss feel like an I love you, feel like the first time He said beloved. John is so overwhelmed by His love that he tilts his head down to lean against the crown of His head, feeling more tears drop down into His hair.
Jesus kisses his fingers again before settling them back on His chest and rubbing His hands up and down John’s wrist and his foreman.
He feels almost ashamed at the comfort he’s receiving when he came in here to offer comfort to Him but it just makes more tears drip down from John’s eyes. He goes to shift his head up but Jesus’ hand moves instead, cupping the side of his neck to still the movement.
“It’s okay.” He whispers and John tightens his fingers again in His tunic, letting out a deep breath as Jesus caresses his skin before dropping His touch back down to cover his hand again.
Jesus presses John’s hand down over His chest, firm and they end up matching their breathing to one another’s, basking in the shared comfort of the breath of life.
After a while and when their cheeks are dry from tears and their breathing is even and calm, Jesus turns His head slightly in toward John’s neck.
“If only this night could last a little longer.” He says, His voice soft and barely audible and so, so human.
John silently nods against His head, moving to kiss His forehead and trying to keep another wave of emotion from flooding to his eyes.
As his own lips linger on Jesus’ skin his gaze is caught on the candle burning bright on the table in the corner. He thinks of the Hanukkah candles burning downstairs and hopes that for once they stay lit longer than eight days. That they could blaze as bright as the sun for the eternity that Jesus talks about.
John vows to take care of His heart for that forever, to do whatever he can to erase any pain that appears in His voice, because he knows that if anything is better than eternal life it’s the love that exists between them in this room.