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thedailyshow_rpsTitle: Recurring Dreams {part 33: the end of the world as we know it}
Author: shoebox_addict
Pairing: Jon/Stephen, Stephen/Evie
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, angst to the max, sappy men, marriages in jeopardy, asthma, Paul
Author's Notes: Part thirty-three. -heavy sigh- This one was really hard to write and as I have said to several people already, I was crying while writing it. Gah. I hope you enjoy reading this, if only by reminding yourself that good will come of it, in the end. I promise this will get better. I promise. BIG THANKS to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
emotionalwench for all her awesomely awesome suggestions and a nod to Keane for the lyrics from their song, "This is the Last Time."
Disclaimer: Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual persons is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).
Any mention of 'The Daily Show', 'The Colbert Report', 'Viacom', any associated entities, or any copyrighted material pertaining therein is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976 and is not intended to infringe upon any copyrighted material.
One./Two./Three./Four./Five./Six./Seven./Eight./Nine./ Ten./
Eleven./Twelve./Thirteen./Fourteen./Fifteen./
Sixteen./Seventeen./Eighteen./Nineteen./Twenty./
Twenty-one./Twenty-two./Twenty-three./Twenty-four./Twenty-five./
Twenty-six./Twenty-seven./Twenty-eight./Twenty-nine./Thirty(!)./
Thirty-one./Thirty-two./
"Recurring Dreams" {part 33: the end of the world as we know it}
A/N: To all Jon fans out there - this chapter is really Stephen-centric for the most part just because he's where the action is right now. I promise you, Jon will have his day when he confesses as well.
Sunday evening I was pacing the bedroom floor, waiting for Evie to emerge from the bathroom. This was the night I'd tell her. It was time to come clean.
The ambulance had come at the same time I'd pulled up to the scene of the crash. The other guy wasn't in great condition but he was the one who'd caused the accident anyway. I was just so relieved that Evie wasn't hurt. I could barely let go of her for the paramedics to check her out. Clearly, I still loved her if I was this worried about her. But I knew that I'd feel the same way if something like this had happened to Jon. They'd checked her over and declared that she was free to go. She was still pretty shaken and didn't want to go home right away so I took her out to breakfast.
Sitting across from her in the booth at the diner, I knew it'd be so easy to tell her right then. But the time wasn't right. She'd just been in a car accident for God's sake, I didn't want to pile this new trauma on top of that.
In the early afternoon, the kids had gone out to the park for a while and we were left alone. I knew I should have told her then. But she still seemed shaken up. So I sat in front of the television, jiggling my foot to a nervous beat and trying to calm myself down. It felt just like when I'd had to tell my mom about a bad grade I'd gotten in school. Only multiplied by a thousand.
Once dinner was over I knew that I couldn't keep up this excuse of Evie being too shaken up from the accident. She bounced back easily and was feeling well enough to cook us a nice, Sunday dinner. I could hardly eat any of it. My stomach was protesting fiercely to any foodstuff I'd been putting into it for the past few days. I tried to choke down as much as I could of the oven-baked chicken so as to appear normal.
And now here I was, tracing a rut in the carpet with my furious pacing. Sooner or later, she was going to be finished in the bathroom and then I'd have to tell her. I knew I was going to have to pinch myself or something to make the words come out. Keeping it all a secret had become like second nature, it was going to be hard to blow the cover off it all.
I couldn't help but think about Jon as I paced. I was going to miss him. It already hurt, like a hole in my chest, at the mere thought of coming clean. I knew this was probably the end of our relationship. We couldn't keep going around like this once Evie knew. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Either I kept quiet and kept my Jon and went on with this upset stomach, or come clean, lose Jon and be guilt free. There were good points on both sides of the argument and there bad points on both sides too. Deep down I knew what we had been doing was wrong. The deceit we had created could only last so long anyway. I had to be honest with the woman I'd made a solemn vow to.
That didn't make this any easier though. Jon had brought me something new, something I couldn't even put into words. My love for him was stronger than anything I'd ever felt aside from my love for Evie. I couldn't explain it and that was part of its meaning and importance. It was going to kill me to have to say goodbye to him.
Finally, Evie emerged from the bathroom. I cleared my throat and stopped pacing. She smiled at me as she spread some lotion on her hands. My stomach turned, I didn't deserve that smile. I wanted to run into the bathroom and puke my guts out but I had to go through with this.
"What's wrong with you, Stephen?" she said, giving me a funny look. "I'm the one who was in the car accident."
I chuckled nervously and wiped my sweaty hands on my pajama pants. "Evie, we need to talk."
Suddenly, she wasn't so carefree. Her face fell and she stopped rubbing her hands together. "What...what do you mean, Stephen?"
"Here, come here," I said, sitting down on the bed and motioning for her to sit next to me. She came hesitantly. Once she was seated, I took her hand in mine and turned to her. "This is really hard for me to do, Evie. I don't want to hurt you, I never meant to hurt you. Please believe me on that. But I have to tell you the truth."
"Oh my God, Stephen." whispered Evie. I could see the pain in her eyes. "What is this all about?"
"Evie." My voice faltered. I felt like I was going to be sick. But I pressed on. "Evie, I lied to you last Thursday."
"Oh my God," she repeated. She wrenched her hand from mine and turned away. "Stephen, are you kidding me?"
I rubbed my hand over my face and tried to remain as calm as I could. "Evie, really. I, please, I have to get this out of me."
"Say it," she spat at me, whipping her head around to face me again. "Just come out and say it Stephen."
I grit my teeth and forced the words out of my mouth. "I lied to you, Evie. There is something going on with me and Jon."
The silence in the room after my confession was deafening. I held my breath, waiting for the onslaught but it never came. I wished she would scream at me and get it over with. Evie just shook her head and gave a bitter little chuckle.
"How could I have been so stupid?" she said. "I knew something was going on! I can't believe I let you talk circles around me and get me to believe you!"
"Evie, please," I said, putting my head in my hands. "This is hard as it is."
"And it should be!" she shouted.
"Honey, the kids." I warned.
"Don't you 'honey' me," she said in a vicious whisper. "I cannot believe you!"
I couldn't say anything. There was no way to respond to what she was saying. I just sat there and took it, my stomach doing somersaults as she scolded and derided me.
"How long? How long has it been, Stephen?"
I hung my head. "About three months."
"Three?" Evie smacked her forehead and just stood shaking her head. "Three months, Stephen? Oh my God. Stephen....did you have sex with him?"
I sighed, that was answer enough but I said, "Yes."
"Unbelievable," she said, walking around the room, circling me like some animal around its prey. "Damn it, Stephen, I knew something was going on, on Emmy night. Oh my God."
I looked up in alarm. She had her hand over her mouth and her eyes were wide. "You did it that night, didn't you? With your wife and your daughter two floors below you? Didn't you?"
I winced at the volume of her last question and nodded, tears streaming down my face now. "Yes, yes, and I feel like shit."
"As well you should," said Evie. "You cheated. You realize that don't you? You cheated and...and...God only knows if you've given me any diseases."
I sprung up from the bed. "Don't say that. I know what I did was wrong but don't say that about Jon."
"So do you love him?" she asked, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Evie..." I hesitated and looked her straight in the eye. It didn't matter what I said, there were no secrets tonight. I felt like she could see straight into my soul and tell what the answer would be anyway. "Yes."
She shook her head and looked up at the ceiling, as though entreating the power of God to help her. "Damn it, Stephen. Are you kidding me? So, what? You're saying you're gay?"
I shrugged. I knew it looked stupid but there really wasn't an answer. "I don't know, honey. I don't define this as anything like that. I just...I love you both."
"Oh, save it."
"I do," I said. "Evie, I honestly do. I know this sounds like some stupid line and you have no reason to believe me - no one knows that better than I do - but I do love you. And I love the kids."
"If you love them so much," said Evie, her voice shaking. "Then why did you go and do this?"
"Evie, I....please." How many sentences could I start that way? How long could this go one before she slapped me hard across the face and left me forever? "I don't know what to say. All I know is that I had to tell you, I couldn't live with myself anymore if I didn't."
"Oh - and you were doing fine living with yourself for the past three months, huh? Bet you didn't feel guilty when you and Jon were...oh, Stephen. How could you?!"
In one swift motion, she wrenched her wedding ring from her finger and flung it in my direction. I felt it graze my face and ping against the stem of my glasses. My chest felt like it was ripping in half. I'd never thought this would happen to Evie and me. Never. We'd been so made for each other. I sat there and took it, ignoring her harsh gesture.
"Evie, I'm so, so sorry. I truly am sorry for all of this and I never, ever meant to hurt you. That wasn't my goal. I didn't plan any of this to happen. You have to believe me."
"And give me one good reason why I should, Stephen," she said, wiping tears off her cheeks. "After this? After you lied straight to my face not three days ago? Why should I believe a word that comes out of your mouth?"
"You shouldn't. I realize that. I...I accept this, I deserve this."
Evie glared at me. My chest ached and my stomach churned. "Stephen, what about the kids?"
I shook my head, new tears falling freely down my face. "I don't know."
"I can't leave you," she said. My breath caught in my throat. So, she'd thought about it then. "If it's only for the kids, I cannot do that to them."
"I agree," I said.
"I can't believe you lied to me," she said. "You lied straight to my face. Have you lied before? How will I ever know?"
You could cut the air in our bedroom with a knife. I sunk down onto the bed again, my legs feeling weak. The moment was just as bad as I'd expected it to be. So far, getting everything off my chest wasn't feeling that great.
"Am I not enough, Stephen?" she said.
I winced, she'd breached the subject I'd hoped we'd avoid - at least tonight. I had no explanation. "Sweetie...no. You are enough, you're more than enough. I told you, I still love you with all my heart."
"More than enough, Stephen? How can I be more than enough if you had to go traipsing off to Jon Stewart?"
I couldn't help it, my fists clenched at the way she spoke his name with contempt. "I didn't go traipsing off anywhere, Evie. I told you, I didn't go looking for something like this."
"Well, what the hell is it? Do you need a man and a woman?"
"N-no, it's not that."
"Well...what the hell is it about Jon that you need that I don't have? What is that? Tell me and I'll get it, Stephen."
I winced. She was right to ask these questions, absolutely right. But there really was no answer. Partly because I hadn't thought about it and partly because I didn't think there was an answer at all. So I didn't say anything.
She shook her head. "I knew you loved him...but - like a brother!" she shouted, running her fingers through her hair. "You know? Damnit, Stephen. Wait - ." She looked up at me, her eyes alight with realization and horror. "Was something going on with Paul?"
I drew in a deep breath. More was coming out than I'd planned. But if I was going to tell the truth, I'd better go the whole nine yards. "Yes, something was going on with Paul. But that's been over for years."
"And that makes it all right?"
"Certainly not but--"
"But what? Stephen? Hmm?" She stared at me, her hands on her hips. I mouthed wordlessly, my cheeks still damp with tears. She rolled her eyes. "You know, I can't-- I can't look at you. I'm going to take a drive." She started toward the door.
"Be careful," I said, unconsciously reaching for her arm.
She turned back to look at me. "Like you care."
"Sweetie, wait!" I hurried toward her and grabbed her arm. I didn't want her driving while she was angry.
"Don't touch me," she said in a low, dangerous voice. I backed away. "Please. Just let me go. I'll be back."
"Will you?"
She turned to face me again, this time I could see tears glistening in her eyes. "Yes. Stephen. I will be back."
She didn't have to say it, she still loved me. I didn't know why, she didn't have to and frankly, she shouldn't. But I knew she did. I nodded. "Go. Just, please, be careful."
She nodded back at me and left the bedroom. I sunk onto the bed with my head in my hands and cried.
******
Hours passed and Evie didn't come back home. I stayed awake, staring at the burning red numbers of the digital clock. The house was silent. Not a creature was stirring - ha ha. I knew I had to wake up early the next day for work but I didn't care. This was more important. My stupid show could wait, this was my life.
I suppose I fell asleep sometime around midnight. When I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, the digital clock said one-thirty. I turned over and stared groggily into Evie's sleepy eyes.
"Mmmph," I said, trying to wake up. "Where have you been?"
She shrugged and rolled her eyes. "I didn't go anywhere. I sat in the driveway and cooled down."
I raised my eyebrows. "Cooled...down?"
Evie nodded and pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, Stephen. I blew up back there."
"You certainly had reason to."
Evie nodded. "Yes, yes, I did. But...I lost my head. I - I threw my ring at you. I'm sorry, no excuse for that."
"There's no excuse for what I've done either," I said, sitting up against the headboard.
"No," she said. "There isn't. But, do you know something? I am a complete and utter idiot."
"Why's that?" I asked.
She sighed. "I still love you."
My chest tightened at her words. "You don't...have to, honey."
Evie shook her head and put a finger to my lips. "Stephen, I told you on Thursday. I can't stop loving you. Even if you did something as stupid, ridiculous and unforgivable as this."
I winced at the word unforgivable but I knew she was right. "I don't deserve it."
"No," she said. "You don't."
Evie turned away from me and groped around on our bedspread for something. When she found her wedding ring, she turned back to me and slipped it back on her finger. "But I can't help it. I love you, Stephen."
"I love you too," I said. "I meant that. I really do still love you."
Evie's bottom lip quivered and tears formed in her eyes. Without a word, she laid her head on my chest and I wrapped an arm around her. I cleared my throat, trying to rid it of the lump that formed there as she sniffled and snaked her arms around my torso. I lost the battle and tears came streaming down my face once more.
Worlds had collided. And we were still intact.
******
Monday morning, Evie and I grudgingly awoke at the blare of our alarm clock. Neither of us had gotten much sleep. But we didn't want it to seem to the children that anything was amiss. So Evie woke up, showered and drove them to school. I decided to go into work later than usual.
When Evie came home from dropping off the kids, I was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. She just stared at me for a moment, poured herself a cup of coffee and then came to sit across from me.
"Good morning," I croaked.
"Good morning," she replied, with just the hint of a smile that was quickly whisked away. "Um...Stephen?"
"Yes?"
"I think this goes without saying but...I feel like I need to say it for...some reason."
"Go ahead," I said, my stomach clenching in anticipation. I hadn't eaten breakfast yet. I'd thought perhaps she'd still want to talk when she came home and I wasn't in the mood to be emptying my stomach halfway to New York.
Evie sighed and stared at her coffee, unwilling or unable to make eye contact with me. "No more. Okay?"
"Wh-what?"
"No more with Jon. No more," she repeated.
"Oh!" I said. "Yes, yeah, I know. No more. I understand. I was going to....I know."
"Okay," said Evie, nodding. "I thought it went without saying, like I said, but...you know. We've resolved it, I've forgiven you - or I will - and um...I just don't want you around him anymore."
I paused, my coffee cup halfway to my lips. "You...you don't want me around him anymore? I'm sorry...what...?"
"Just don't see him anymore. Okay, Stephen?"
"We're best friends," I said.
"And apparently much more too," she spat back. "Look, Stephen. I don't want to fight about this again this morning. Just...you obviously can't control yourselves when you're together. So, no more."
My chest tightened. I knew I'd have to break off the relationship with Jon but to never see him again - outside of work, of course - I couldn't wrap my mind around that one. The words just wouldn't register, like puzzle pieces jammed into the wrong spots. "Evie, please?"
"No," she said. She spoke more firmly now. "I'm sorry, Stephen. But if I know the two of you are together - even just for drinks - I'll wonder. And who can blame me, hmm?"
I ran my fingers through my hair. Of course she was right. It had been hard enough to restrain myself at the Emmy ceremony. Jon had a power over me. I wasn't sure that we could be "just friends" now. But still, this restriction stung. But how could I deny her this one request? How could I put my foot down about remaining friends with my gay lover after what I'd done to her?
I nodded, a lump rising in my throat. "O-okay."
"Thanks, Stephen," she said, smiling and placing her hand on top of mine. "I know it hurts but...I'm sorry."
A tried to smile and tried to hold back the tears. My heart was breaking.
*****
"Hello-o?"
That voice. I loved that voice. Could I stand not to hear it every day?
"Hey, Jon. Um, how was your weekend?"
Jon snorted. "Not that great - the Mets blew it."
He chuckled and slowly realized that I wasn't laughing along with him. How could I? I just savored the sound of his laugh. "Um, Stephen? Is something wrong?"
I swallowed. "Um."
"Oh...my God. Did you....?" His voice cracked and my heart broke further. "Did you tell her?"
I nodded and then remembered we were talking on the phone. "Yeah."
"And...um...am I to believe it, uh, it didn't go well?"
I shook my head. "Nope. Didn't...uh...didn't go well."
"Well how could it, right?" I detected the slightest hint of annoyance and derision in Jon's voice.
"Jon," I said. "I had to tell her."
He sighed. "I know, Stephen. I know."
Silence. I listened to him breathing and prayed this wouldn't give him an asthma attack. "Um, Jon...can we have lunch today?"
"Are you sure that's all right?"
"Yeah, just--." I stopped myself before saying just one last time. "Yeah, it's fine."
"Okay," he said. "I'll meet you at the cafe?"
"No!" I said. "Um, no. Let's have lunch at your office."
"O-kay," said Jon warily. "Noon?"
"I'll be there," I replied.
Jon hung up and I choked back the tears. I had a meeting to go to. This was no time to be sobbing uncontrollably. I took a few deep, calming breaths and tried to forget Jon - for now. There'd be time later to say goodbye properly. I didn't want to tell him this was probably our last lunch together. No sense in upsetting him - yet.
I couldn't stand the thought of the pain I'd see in his eyes.
******
This is the last time
that I will say these words
"Hey, Stephen!"
His cheerfulness only made me sadder. I knew what I was here to do, he didn't. I smiled as best I could and held him tight - and maybe a little too long - when he hugged me. I breathed in his scent and tried not to cry. Apparently, I failed.
"Stephen," he said, still holding me tightly. "It's okay."
"What is?"
"Whatever you're sobbing about," he said.
I touched my cheeks and was surprised to find tears there. I hadn't realized I'd started crying. I hugged him closer and buried my face in his shoulder. He patted my back and whispered things in my ear. I don't know what he said. All I remember was his touch and the feeling of being safe within his arms.
At long last I pulled away from him, wiping my nose sloppily on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. There were tears on Jon's face too and I wiped them away with my thumb. He was gazing at me, clearly concerned for my well being - or at least my sanity.
"Stephen, baby. What's the matter?" he asked and his words carried such tenderness that I almost began to cry again.
"Oh Jon," I moaned. I took my glasses off and pinched the bridge of my nose. Jon rubbed my arm gently, waiting patiently for me to able to speak. "Jon...we can't see each other anymore."
"Well, that goes without saying now doesn't it?" he said, giving me a bitter little smile as new tears fell from his eyes.
"No," I said. "I mean...we can never...she won't let me see you anymore."
Jon's eyes widened. "Not even...not even as friends?"
I shook my head and let out a choked sob. "I don't blame her. We've been assholes. I don't know why we even..."
I couldn't finish the sentence. Jon was staring at me with those damn blue eyes of his and I knew exactly why we'd started this.
"I love you," I choked and he gathered me in his arms once more.
~
I remember the first time
The first of many loves
"Stephen?" Jon reached a hand up from the floor to touch my arm lightly. "I love you."
"No," I said firmly. "Don't say that, it's ridiculous. You had one silly dream about me, you kiss me and now we're sitting here in our own filth. That is not grounds for love, Jon so don't say it. We're both still drunk, you don't know what you're saying."
----
"Stephen, I do love you."
I looked up and saw him start to shake his head. I gave him a stern look. "No, Stephen. Don't. Just don't. I. love. you."
The tears broke loose and streamed down Stephen's cheeks, coming to rest on the collar of his shirt, making it damp. I caught a tear with my thumb before it could fall down his face. "Please, don't cry."
----
"I care about you, Stephen. This is not for shits and giggles," I said, using his phrase. "I love you."
Stephen smiled with tears still falling from his eyes. In a hoarse whisper he said it. "I love you, Jon."
With my hand still on the back of his head, I pushed him towards me, forcing our lips together. I could taste his tears on his soft lips and felt myself begin to cry.
~
Sweep it into the corner
or hide it under the bed
Say these things, they go away
But they never do
"This is the end, isn't it?" said Jon.
I nodded, tears still coursing down my face. We were sitting on the couch now and he still had his arms wrapped firmly around me. "I'm afraid it is."
"Stephen," he breathed, rubbing my back as I sobbed anew. "Stop crying. Please. You're just making me cry even more."
"I know, I know," I sobbed. "Don't cry because it's over-"
"-smile because it happened," he finished, his voice cracking in the middle. "Just think...we've had a wonderful...oh, Stephen. I love you so much."
"I keep thinking," I said, trying to contain my tears. "Of all the time we wasted. All the time we could have been..."
"No, Stephen," said Jon, silencing me. "It doesn't work that way. We got the time we got and that...that was a gift, as it is."
I sniffled. "I guess you're right. It doesn't make it hurt any less, Jon. I know it's been wrong but...to just cut you out of my life? It's impossible."
Jon took me by the shoulders and lifted me off his chest so he could look at me. "Stephen...I just want you to know...these past three months have been--"
"Jon, don't," I said, waving my hand. "Please don't. It'll only make it worse."
"I don't care," said Jon, gritting his teeth against his tears and shaking me slightly. "No. If this is the end, I want you to know what it's meant to me, damn it. I love you, Stephen Colbert. And I want you to know that the past three months have been....they've been amazing. I - it's not like I was unhappy before but, God, you gave me something."
I nodded. My face hurt from crying so much but I couldn't stop. "Same here, Jon. You...I can't explain it but you gave me something, it's...it's exactly like you said. This has filled a hole that...I didn't know was there."
Jon nodded, wiping his eyes. It was no use, as soon as he wiped away his tears, more fell in their place. "Damn it, Stephen. I still can't explain this, after all this time."
I sighed. "Did it need to be explained?"
He shook his head, "No."
"All that mattered was that we had it," I said in a small voice. "And now Evie wants me to explain it. I can't...I can't explain it. But I feel like I owe it to her."
Jon sighed, a deep, heavy, world-weary sigh and rubbed his eyes. "I have to tell Tracey."
I nodded wordlessly. I didn't want to be the one to tell him this, I was glad he'd come around to it himself.
"Evie will probably tell her anyway," he said.
I nodded again. "I can't see her keeping it from Tracey now that she knows."
Jon nodded grimly, his eyes - still leaking at the corners - darting around the room. "I can't believe it's all collapsing in on us like this. I thought we'd have it forever."
It was my turn to smile bitterly. "Foolish. Foolish of both of us to think something like that. We knew we had other commitments."
Jon nodded. "I knew you'd never go back on that vow."
"And I knew you wouldn't go back on yours."
A silent question hung between us. So why did we do it? It didn't need to be answered. It had already been answered in the touch of his hand and the soft press of his lips to mine. I already knew. Something unspeakable, unknowable existed between us and it may never be defined. But it was there, and there was no denying it.
"I love you, Stephen," breathed Jon. He took my hand in his and kissed the knuckles fervently. "I want you to know that it wasn't the sex. God, it wasn't that."
I nodded, clutching his hand. "I know. You made that pretty clear, Jon. Believe me, you don't have to say it. I know. And the same goes for me."
Jon nodded. "I know."
We sat there for a few minutes, just ticking away the seconds with each other. It must have looked like a scene in some cheesy movie - Jon clutching my hand and holding it to his lips and me sobbing all over the place. We didn't care. Having Jon hold my hand felt comforting after all he'd said about not being able to when he wanted.
Moments passed and I had to look at my watch. I knew it killed the mood but what if Evie called the office during my lunch hour? It was twelve forty-five. Where had the time gone? Where had the weeks and months of bliss gone?
"I have to go," I whispered.
"I know," he whispered back. "I don't want you to ever leave me."
I shut my eyes tight against more tears and continued clutching his hand, conveying in that one embrace how much he meant to me and how much it hurt to leave.
Jon swallowed and let go of my hand, slowly unclenching his fingers from mine and dropping his hand to the couch.
"I...I accept this," he said. "I realize you have a commitment to Evie, I have one to Tracey. We have to do what's right."
"Yes, what's right," I repeated. I didn't want to say it out loud but what felt right at that moment was to stay seated on this couch with Jon for all of eternity.
Reluctantly, I stood up from the couch and Jon followed. He looked up at me and I looked down at him. Our eyes met and there was the pain I'd so dreaded to see. I could tell his heart was breaking just as mine was.
"Goodbye, Jon," I said, trying my hardest to keep my voice steady.
"Bye, Stephen," he said, touching the sleeve of my sweatshirt ever so slightly with the very tips of his fingers.
I started toward the door, striving not to make this any more painful than it had already been. I couldn't leave without saying goodbye properly, though. Halfway there, I turned on my heel and strode back toward him. I grasped him on either side of his face, stroking the grey - almost white - hair at his temples.
"I love you, Jon Stewart," I said through gritted teeth, staring straight into his blue eyes. "Nothing can ever change that. Just remember that I love you."
As Jon's face crumpled into renewed spasms of agony, I pressed my lips to his and tasted the salt of his tears. It wasn't insistent, it wasn't lustful. It was soft and gentle and caressing. He buried his fingers in the hair at the back of my neck and we moved together. Our lips didn't part, our tongues didn't tangle. This was enough to tell each other how much everything meant.
Eventually, we had to pull away for air. Jon gasped slightly and I lovingly caressed his cheek with my thumb.
"If I could stand here with you forever," I whispered to him. "I would."
He nodded, unable to speak for crying silently and doing all he could to hold in the sobs.
"Maybe one day..."
"No," he choked. "Don't. Don't give me false hope. It hurts enough, Stephen."
I nodded and reluctantly let go of his face. I turned and left the office. This time I didn't turn back, I didn't say goodbye one last time. We could go on forever with glances backward and muttered goodbyes as we held each other. It would never end. But it had to, we both knew that.
I returned to my office and slapped my face with cold water in the bathroom, trying to rid my eyes of their persistent redness.
I regained my composure just in time for Evie to call. When I spoke with her, I tried to act as though I hadn't just had my heart ripped out of my chest.
******
This is the last time
that I will show my face
One last tender lie and
then I'm out of this place
When Stephen left my office, I locked the door and sat behind my desk. I just needed a moment to myself. My chest was aching and I didn't know it was from all the crying or the fact that Stephen had walked out of my life. Forever. That had come as a complete surprise. I knew we would have to get rid of our romantic relationship, that was a given. But for Evie to suggest that we stop being friends, essentially, was uncalled for. I didn't blame her though. I knew what we had done. She had every right to be suspicious for the rest of her days. But Stephen had become a part of me. He'd always been a part of me. To not see him every day would be like not having my right hand.
I still had to work. I was very conscious of the fact that I still had a show to put on tonight. I didn't know how I was going to go on air with these red eyes and this broken heart. I was having a hard enough time making light of the financial crisis and general state of shit the country was in. Now I had to work through my own, personal agony as well. It was all too much.
I felt a tickle in my chest and began to cough. As I gasped, trying to free my windpipe from the invisible restrictions, I groped in my desk drawer for my inhaler. I found it and took a deep breath of the soothing medicine. Tasted different when you'd been sobbing for an hour - a little saltier. If only there was a medicine I could inhale that would fill my heart and rid it of this hole that suddenly existed.
Stephen's softly spoken words were cemented in my mind. Maybe one day..., he had said. But no, I knew it would just be fooling myself to think that someday we could be together again. Most of all I knew that hoping would only make me hurt more. This hurt enough as it was. I set my elbows up on the desk and lowered my head into my hands. Maybe with time it would stop hurting, this dull ache in my chest may subside as the days marched on.
But I knew this feeling wouldn't go away anytime soon. I had to tell Tracey now. I had to re-live all of this agony and combine it with her dissaproving looks and a hell of a lot more crying. I envied Stephen just slightly, he'd already told and gotten it out of the way. I dreaded going home tonight.
I got up to unlock the door. I couldn't sit here crying and pitying myself forever, what was the use of that? Just as I opened the door, John Oliver and Wyatt Cenac were approaching my office.
"Hi, Jon!" said John, waving cheerfully.
"Oh, hi," I said. Just who I didn't need to see, the happy and open couple. "What's up, guys?"
"We wanted to talk to you about an idea we had," said Wyatt. "Hey, man, is something wrong?"
"What? What do you mean?" I said, keeping my eyes to the floor.
"Your eyes look a bit...red," said John.
"Oh, uh, yeah...allergies."
"Um, we just saw Stephen leaving," said John. "Did something happen with him?"
"Guys, I don't want to talk about it right now, all right?"
"The least we can do is help though," said Wyatt. "I mean, you two are the reason we got together."
"Yeah!" I screamed. "And it isn't just fucking lovely? You get to go prancing around, holding hands and kissing each other senseless at Emmy parties while Stephen and I are left to sneak around and feel like crap!"
"Whoa, Jon, calm down," said John, holding his hands up.
"No! I won't calm down. God...damn it." I ran my hands roughly through my hair several times and wandered aimlessly around my desk. "This is fucking unbelievable. How could this happen? It was so...perfect. And now it's gone."
I sunk weakly into my desk chair and laid my head on the hard, wooden surface of my desk as I began to cry. I felt John Oliver's hand on my back, gently rubbing, trying to comfort me. "It's okay, Jon. Let it all out. It'll be fine."
I sobbed and sobbed, breath getting caught in my chest as I watched tears fall to the floor near my feet. How could I still have tears left? I choked on my tears and clutched at my aching chest. John handed me my inhaler and I took a long, deep breath of medicine, trying to calm myself down.
"Jon, you're going to hyperventilate," said John and I detected genuine worry in his voice. "Just calm down."
"It's so...unfair," I sobbed, shaking my head. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eye sockets until I saw stars and swirling patterns of color. I wanted it all to go away.
*****
I was walking down a long, sterile, white hall with no end in sight. The silence was pressing in on me from all sides and I just wished I could hear something, anything. As I thought that, loud coughing erupted from somewhere behind me - or was it in front of me? It was all around me. Someone was choking, unable to breath. My eyes darted around to see who it was but all I could see was white.
Wheezing sounds echoed all around me. I covered my ears, willing it all to go away. I longed for the silence once more. But it was no use, I couldn't undo my wish. Everything was amplified in the long, empty hallway. I couldn't escape the horrible, horrible noise.
Just then, I realized that there were doors leading off of the hallway. I began to run down the hall, peering into each room as I passed it, hoping to find whoever was suffering. No one. There was no one in any of the rooms. They were all empty but still the sound persisted.
Then I noticed a door at the far end of the hallway. I began to run towards it as the coughing and gasping became more and more frantic. The door seemed to get farther away the faster I ran. But I kept running, my heart pounding as the gasping reached its height. Was someone dying?
Just as I finally reached the door and my hand touched the doorknob, all the gasping and coughing ceased. I turned the doorknob and opened the door to find Jon lying crumpled on the floor of the otherwise empty room. I rushed to his side and pulled his head gently into my lap. He was so still. I leaned down near his face but could hear no breath.
"Jon!" I screamed, shaking him by the shoulders. "Jon! Breathe!"
Nothing. He lay motionless in my lap. I laid him down flat on the floor and began CPR but just as I did, I felt someone tugging on my arm. I turned to see Evie. She pulled me away from him and no matter how much I screamed and protested, I couldn't break free from her.
Jon got smaller and smaller as Evie pulled me down the hallway until I could no longer see him at all. He was gone.
******
"Stephen! Stephen, wake up!" Evie shook Stephen vigorously by the shoulder. He was moaning, tossing and turning. She kept shaking him, her own hands shaking as he tried to pull him from his unconscious torment. At last he let out a pained yelp like an injured animal and his eyes snapped open. "Stephen! Are you okay?"
"No," he breathed, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath. Tears fell silently down his face, as though his eyes were acting of their own accord. He seemed to be in shock.
"Stephen, what happened?"
"Nightmare," he choked, covering his eyes with his hand.
Evie wanted to accuse him of dreaming about Jon but she held her tongue. Stephen looked so scared, she couldn't bring herself to say something that would only make him more upset. She rubbed his chest gently as his breathing became more even.
"It's okay, Stephen," she muttered. "It was only a dream."
"So real," he whispered, still covering his eyes. "It was so real."
"What happened?" She couldn't resist asking.
Stephen shook his head. "Don't want to talk about it."
Evie bit her lip. "I understand."
"You don't," he said under his breath. She almost didn't hear. She decided to pretend that she hadn't. She turned over onto her side of the bed and tried to get back to sleep. Stephen did the same.
At that same moment in New York City, miles from the small New Jersey suburb, Jon Stewart lay awake with horrific recollections of a dream about a bear attack and a man torn to shreds. Tears traced silent patterns down his pale cheeks and he resolved to tell Tracey later that week, rather than in the morning as he had planned.
******
They say that some things never die
Well I tried, and I tried
I spent most of Tuesday morning trying to forget what a disaster Monday had been. In keeping with the vein of things going horribly, the show hadn't been wonderful. And as it wound down, I began to realize I'd have to do the toss with Stephen. Our first toss after the thing had blown up in our faces.
It wasn't very funny. I'd told DJ not to put anything sexual or suggestive in it. He hadn't asked questions - bless his soul - and had quickly thrown together something about Stephen joking with my Jewishness. It was a surefire plan, always had been. It was a good thing to fall back on to just play upon Stephen's character's prejudices.
We'd read the prompters, we did the jokes, we welcomed the laughs. But the whole thing felt hollow somehow. As an added distraction, the minute Stephen appeared on camera, I was hard. He shot me that prize winning smile and I wanted to leap through the camera and take him. I was angry with myself for being so easily aroused. I knew I shouldn't even be having those feelings anymore. But what was I going to do? There was no off switch I could flick.
After the show, I rushed off to the dressing room, mostly to just be alone. The realization slowly fell upon me that Stephen was not coming. He may never come again. The dressing room felt cold and sterile without his presence next to me on the couch.
Was everything going to feel hollow without Stephen?
******
Tuesday morning was all about forgetting Monday. I turned off my emotions, I tried not to feel. I knew that if I thought about all of it for too long or dwelled upon the sadness and unfairness, I'd never be able to do the show. The toss was painful. I hadn't thought about that, we'd still have to do tosses. That'd probably be the hardest part of all of this. Still seeing each other and pretending everything was okay.
Now I sat in my office during my lunch hour, with an untouched sandwich sitting on my desk. If I'd thought that confessing would settle my stomach, I'd been an idiot. Well, it had worked for a little while. But as soon as Evie had forbid me from seeing Jon, something new took weight in my stomach in place of the guilt. A horrible mass of missing Jon, wanting Jon, and all the while knowing it was impossible.
I had to do something. I couldn't keep sitting around with my thoughts floating stagnant in my head. I picked up the phone and dialed a number that had never failed to get me into trouble.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Paul, it's Stephen."
Paul sounded pretty surprised to be hearing from me. "Um, hey Stephen. What's going on? Why are you calling me?"
I sighed. "Paul. You were right, we should get together and talk things out."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really," I said. "We shouldn't let a friendship fall by the wayside because of some stupid things we did."
"And Jon won't mind?"
I took a deep breath. I didn't want to tell Paul all that had happened. Maybe one day I would. But right now it was still too fresh, it still stung too much. I didn't need Paul's taunting and "I told you so's". "No, Jon won't mind."
"Great," said Paul. "When can we meet?"
"How about on Friday? I don't have work that day so we can have lunch."
"Sounds great!" Paul was clearly very glad we were getting together again. "I'll see you then."
"See you," I said, and hung up. I promised myself that no matter how bad it got, I would not turn to Paul as a substitute for Jon. I was going to keep that promise, no matter what it took. And with this new lunch date penciled into my datebook, it was going to take a lot of strength.
Each day was taking more and more strength now that Jon wasn't there with me.
A/N: As always, the floor is open to any and all suggestions you may have! All commenters get to play "Seven Minutes in Heaven" with Jon and/or Stephen. -waggles eyebrows-
Author: shoebox_addict
Pairing: Jon/Stephen, Stephen/Evie
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, angst to the max, sappy men, marriages in jeopardy, asthma, Paul
Author's Notes: Part thirty-three. -heavy sigh- This one was really hard to write and as I have said to several people already, I was crying while writing it. Gah. I hope you enjoy reading this, if only by reminding yourself that good will come of it, in the end. I promise this will get better. I promise. BIG THANKS to
emotionalwench for all her awesomely awesome suggestions and a nod to Keane for the lyrics from their song, "This is the Last Time."Disclaimer: Any similarity between the fictional version of the person portrayed here and the actual persons is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).
Any mention of 'The Daily Show', 'The Colbert Report', 'Viacom', any associated entities, or any copyrighted material pertaining therein is reasonably protected by the Fair Use Rule of the United States Copyright Act of 1976 and is not intended to infringe upon any copyrighted material.
One./Two./Three./Four./Five./Six./Seven./Eight./Nine./ Ten./
Eleven./Twelve./Thirteen./Fourteen./Fifteen./
Sixteen./Seventeen./Eighteen./Nineteen./Twenty./
Twenty-one./Twenty-two./Twenty-three./Twenty-four./Twenty-five./
Twenty-six./Twenty-seven./Twenty-eight./Twenty-nine./Thirty(!)./
Thirty-one./Thirty-two./
"Recurring Dreams" {part 33: the end of the world as we know it}
A/N: To all Jon fans out there - this chapter is really Stephen-centric for the most part just because he's where the action is right now. I promise you, Jon will have his day when he confesses as well.
Sunday evening I was pacing the bedroom floor, waiting for Evie to emerge from the bathroom. This was the night I'd tell her. It was time to come clean.
The ambulance had come at the same time I'd pulled up to the scene of the crash. The other guy wasn't in great condition but he was the one who'd caused the accident anyway. I was just so relieved that Evie wasn't hurt. I could barely let go of her for the paramedics to check her out. Clearly, I still loved her if I was this worried about her. But I knew that I'd feel the same way if something like this had happened to Jon. They'd checked her over and declared that she was free to go. She was still pretty shaken and didn't want to go home right away so I took her out to breakfast.
Sitting across from her in the booth at the diner, I knew it'd be so easy to tell her right then. But the time wasn't right. She'd just been in a car accident for God's sake, I didn't want to pile this new trauma on top of that.
In the early afternoon, the kids had gone out to the park for a while and we were left alone. I knew I should have told her then. But she still seemed shaken up. So I sat in front of the television, jiggling my foot to a nervous beat and trying to calm myself down. It felt just like when I'd had to tell my mom about a bad grade I'd gotten in school. Only multiplied by a thousand.
Once dinner was over I knew that I couldn't keep up this excuse of Evie being too shaken up from the accident. She bounced back easily and was feeling well enough to cook us a nice, Sunday dinner. I could hardly eat any of it. My stomach was protesting fiercely to any foodstuff I'd been putting into it for the past few days. I tried to choke down as much as I could of the oven-baked chicken so as to appear normal.
And now here I was, tracing a rut in the carpet with my furious pacing. Sooner or later, she was going to be finished in the bathroom and then I'd have to tell her. I knew I was going to have to pinch myself or something to make the words come out. Keeping it all a secret had become like second nature, it was going to be hard to blow the cover off it all.
I couldn't help but think about Jon as I paced. I was going to miss him. It already hurt, like a hole in my chest, at the mere thought of coming clean. I knew this was probably the end of our relationship. We couldn't keep going around like this once Evie knew. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Either I kept quiet and kept my Jon and went on with this upset stomach, or come clean, lose Jon and be guilt free. There were good points on both sides of the argument and there bad points on both sides too. Deep down I knew what we had been doing was wrong. The deceit we had created could only last so long anyway. I had to be honest with the woman I'd made a solemn vow to.
That didn't make this any easier though. Jon had brought me something new, something I couldn't even put into words. My love for him was stronger than anything I'd ever felt aside from my love for Evie. I couldn't explain it and that was part of its meaning and importance. It was going to kill me to have to say goodbye to him.
Finally, Evie emerged from the bathroom. I cleared my throat and stopped pacing. She smiled at me as she spread some lotion on her hands. My stomach turned, I didn't deserve that smile. I wanted to run into the bathroom and puke my guts out but I had to go through with this.
"What's wrong with you, Stephen?" she said, giving me a funny look. "I'm the one who was in the car accident."
I chuckled nervously and wiped my sweaty hands on my pajama pants. "Evie, we need to talk."
Suddenly, she wasn't so carefree. Her face fell and she stopped rubbing her hands together. "What...what do you mean, Stephen?"
"Here, come here," I said, sitting down on the bed and motioning for her to sit next to me. She came hesitantly. Once she was seated, I took her hand in mine and turned to her. "This is really hard for me to do, Evie. I don't want to hurt you, I never meant to hurt you. Please believe me on that. But I have to tell you the truth."
"Oh my God, Stephen." whispered Evie. I could see the pain in her eyes. "What is this all about?"
"Evie." My voice faltered. I felt like I was going to be sick. But I pressed on. "Evie, I lied to you last Thursday."
"Oh my God," she repeated. She wrenched her hand from mine and turned away. "Stephen, are you kidding me?"
I rubbed my hand over my face and tried to remain as calm as I could. "Evie, really. I, please, I have to get this out of me."
"Say it," she spat at me, whipping her head around to face me again. "Just come out and say it Stephen."
I grit my teeth and forced the words out of my mouth. "I lied to you, Evie. There is something going on with me and Jon."
The silence in the room after my confession was deafening. I held my breath, waiting for the onslaught but it never came. I wished she would scream at me and get it over with. Evie just shook her head and gave a bitter little chuckle.
"How could I have been so stupid?" she said. "I knew something was going on! I can't believe I let you talk circles around me and get me to believe you!"
"Evie, please," I said, putting my head in my hands. "This is hard as it is."
"And it should be!" she shouted.
"Honey, the kids." I warned.
"Don't you 'honey' me," she said in a vicious whisper. "I cannot believe you!"
I couldn't say anything. There was no way to respond to what she was saying. I just sat there and took it, my stomach doing somersaults as she scolded and derided me.
"How long? How long has it been, Stephen?"
I hung my head. "About three months."
"Three?" Evie smacked her forehead and just stood shaking her head. "Three months, Stephen? Oh my God. Stephen....did you have sex with him?"
I sighed, that was answer enough but I said, "Yes."
"Unbelievable," she said, walking around the room, circling me like some animal around its prey. "Damn it, Stephen, I knew something was going on, on Emmy night. Oh my God."
I looked up in alarm. She had her hand over her mouth and her eyes were wide. "You did it that night, didn't you? With your wife and your daughter two floors below you? Didn't you?"
I winced at the volume of her last question and nodded, tears streaming down my face now. "Yes, yes, and I feel like shit."
"As well you should," said Evie. "You cheated. You realize that don't you? You cheated and...and...God only knows if you've given me any diseases."
I sprung up from the bed. "Don't say that. I know what I did was wrong but don't say that about Jon."
"So do you love him?" she asked, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Evie..." I hesitated and looked her straight in the eye. It didn't matter what I said, there were no secrets tonight. I felt like she could see straight into my soul and tell what the answer would be anyway. "Yes."
She shook her head and looked up at the ceiling, as though entreating the power of God to help her. "Damn it, Stephen. Are you kidding me? So, what? You're saying you're gay?"
I shrugged. I knew it looked stupid but there really wasn't an answer. "I don't know, honey. I don't define this as anything like that. I just...I love you both."
"Oh, save it."
"I do," I said. "Evie, I honestly do. I know this sounds like some stupid line and you have no reason to believe me - no one knows that better than I do - but I do love you. And I love the kids."
"If you love them so much," said Evie, her voice shaking. "Then why did you go and do this?"
"Evie, I....please." How many sentences could I start that way? How long could this go one before she slapped me hard across the face and left me forever? "I don't know what to say. All I know is that I had to tell you, I couldn't live with myself anymore if I didn't."
"Oh - and you were doing fine living with yourself for the past three months, huh? Bet you didn't feel guilty when you and Jon were...oh, Stephen. How could you?!"
In one swift motion, she wrenched her wedding ring from her finger and flung it in my direction. I felt it graze my face and ping against the stem of my glasses. My chest felt like it was ripping in half. I'd never thought this would happen to Evie and me. Never. We'd been so made for each other. I sat there and took it, ignoring her harsh gesture.
"Evie, I'm so, so sorry. I truly am sorry for all of this and I never, ever meant to hurt you. That wasn't my goal. I didn't plan any of this to happen. You have to believe me."
"And give me one good reason why I should, Stephen," she said, wiping tears off her cheeks. "After this? After you lied straight to my face not three days ago? Why should I believe a word that comes out of your mouth?"
"You shouldn't. I realize that. I...I accept this, I deserve this."
Evie glared at me. My chest ached and my stomach churned. "Stephen, what about the kids?"
I shook my head, new tears falling freely down my face. "I don't know."
"I can't leave you," she said. My breath caught in my throat. So, she'd thought about it then. "If it's only for the kids, I cannot do that to them."
"I agree," I said.
"I can't believe you lied to me," she said. "You lied straight to my face. Have you lied before? How will I ever know?"
You could cut the air in our bedroom with a knife. I sunk down onto the bed again, my legs feeling weak. The moment was just as bad as I'd expected it to be. So far, getting everything off my chest wasn't feeling that great.
"Am I not enough, Stephen?" she said.
I winced, she'd breached the subject I'd hoped we'd avoid - at least tonight. I had no explanation. "Sweetie...no. You are enough, you're more than enough. I told you, I still love you with all my heart."
"More than enough, Stephen? How can I be more than enough if you had to go traipsing off to Jon Stewart?"
I couldn't help it, my fists clenched at the way she spoke his name with contempt. "I didn't go traipsing off anywhere, Evie. I told you, I didn't go looking for something like this."
"Well, what the hell is it? Do you need a man and a woman?"
"N-no, it's not that."
"Well...what the hell is it about Jon that you need that I don't have? What is that? Tell me and I'll get it, Stephen."
I winced. She was right to ask these questions, absolutely right. But there really was no answer. Partly because I hadn't thought about it and partly because I didn't think there was an answer at all. So I didn't say anything.
She shook her head. "I knew you loved him...but - like a brother!" she shouted, running her fingers through her hair. "You know? Damnit, Stephen. Wait - ." She looked up at me, her eyes alight with realization and horror. "Was something going on with Paul?"
I drew in a deep breath. More was coming out than I'd planned. But if I was going to tell the truth, I'd better go the whole nine yards. "Yes, something was going on with Paul. But that's been over for years."
"And that makes it all right?"
"Certainly not but--"
"But what? Stephen? Hmm?" She stared at me, her hands on her hips. I mouthed wordlessly, my cheeks still damp with tears. She rolled her eyes. "You know, I can't-- I can't look at you. I'm going to take a drive." She started toward the door.
"Be careful," I said, unconsciously reaching for her arm.
She turned back to look at me. "Like you care."
"Sweetie, wait!" I hurried toward her and grabbed her arm. I didn't want her driving while she was angry.
"Don't touch me," she said in a low, dangerous voice. I backed away. "Please. Just let me go. I'll be back."
"Will you?"
She turned to face me again, this time I could see tears glistening in her eyes. "Yes. Stephen. I will be back."
She didn't have to say it, she still loved me. I didn't know why, she didn't have to and frankly, she shouldn't. But I knew she did. I nodded. "Go. Just, please, be careful."
She nodded back at me and left the bedroom. I sunk onto the bed with my head in my hands and cried.
Hours passed and Evie didn't come back home. I stayed awake, staring at the burning red numbers of the digital clock. The house was silent. Not a creature was stirring - ha ha. I knew I had to wake up early the next day for work but I didn't care. This was more important. My stupid show could wait, this was my life.
I suppose I fell asleep sometime around midnight. When I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, the digital clock said one-thirty. I turned over and stared groggily into Evie's sleepy eyes.
"Mmmph," I said, trying to wake up. "Where have you been?"
She shrugged and rolled her eyes. "I didn't go anywhere. I sat in the driveway and cooled down."
I raised my eyebrows. "Cooled...down?"
Evie nodded and pursed her lips. "I'm sorry, Stephen. I blew up back there."
"You certainly had reason to."
Evie nodded. "Yes, yes, I did. But...I lost my head. I - I threw my ring at you. I'm sorry, no excuse for that."
"There's no excuse for what I've done either," I said, sitting up against the headboard.
"No," she said. "There isn't. But, do you know something? I am a complete and utter idiot."
"Why's that?" I asked.
She sighed. "I still love you."
My chest tightened at her words. "You don't...have to, honey."
Evie shook her head and put a finger to my lips. "Stephen, I told you on Thursday. I can't stop loving you. Even if you did something as stupid, ridiculous and unforgivable as this."
I winced at the word unforgivable but I knew she was right. "I don't deserve it."
"No," she said. "You don't."
Evie turned away from me and groped around on our bedspread for something. When she found her wedding ring, she turned back to me and slipped it back on her finger. "But I can't help it. I love you, Stephen."
"I love you too," I said. "I meant that. I really do still love you."
Evie's bottom lip quivered and tears formed in her eyes. Without a word, she laid her head on my chest and I wrapped an arm around her. I cleared my throat, trying to rid it of the lump that formed there as she sniffled and snaked her arms around my torso. I lost the battle and tears came streaming down my face once more.
Worlds had collided. And we were still intact.
Monday morning, Evie and I grudgingly awoke at the blare of our alarm clock. Neither of us had gotten much sleep. But we didn't want it to seem to the children that anything was amiss. So Evie woke up, showered and drove them to school. I decided to go into work later than usual.
When Evie came home from dropping off the kids, I was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee. She just stared at me for a moment, poured herself a cup of coffee and then came to sit across from me.
"Good morning," I croaked.
"Good morning," she replied, with just the hint of a smile that was quickly whisked away. "Um...Stephen?"
"Yes?"
"I think this goes without saying but...I feel like I need to say it for...some reason."
"Go ahead," I said, my stomach clenching in anticipation. I hadn't eaten breakfast yet. I'd thought perhaps she'd still want to talk when she came home and I wasn't in the mood to be emptying my stomach halfway to New York.
Evie sighed and stared at her coffee, unwilling or unable to make eye contact with me. "No more. Okay?"
"Wh-what?"
"No more with Jon. No more," she repeated.
"Oh!" I said. "Yes, yeah, I know. No more. I understand. I was going to....I know."
"Okay," said Evie, nodding. "I thought it went without saying, like I said, but...you know. We've resolved it, I've forgiven you - or I will - and um...I just don't want you around him anymore."
I paused, my coffee cup halfway to my lips. "You...you don't want me around him anymore? I'm sorry...what...?"
"Just don't see him anymore. Okay, Stephen?"
"We're best friends," I said.
"And apparently much more too," she spat back. "Look, Stephen. I don't want to fight about this again this morning. Just...you obviously can't control yourselves when you're together. So, no more."
My chest tightened. I knew I'd have to break off the relationship with Jon but to never see him again - outside of work, of course - I couldn't wrap my mind around that one. The words just wouldn't register, like puzzle pieces jammed into the wrong spots. "Evie, please?"
"No," she said. She spoke more firmly now. "I'm sorry, Stephen. But if I know the two of you are together - even just for drinks - I'll wonder. And who can blame me, hmm?"
I ran my fingers through my hair. Of course she was right. It had been hard enough to restrain myself at the Emmy ceremony. Jon had a power over me. I wasn't sure that we could be "just friends" now. But still, this restriction stung. But how could I deny her this one request? How could I put my foot down about remaining friends with my gay lover after what I'd done to her?
I nodded, a lump rising in my throat. "O-okay."
"Thanks, Stephen," she said, smiling and placing her hand on top of mine. "I know it hurts but...I'm sorry."
A tried to smile and tried to hold back the tears. My heart was breaking.
"Hello-o?"
That voice. I loved that voice. Could I stand not to hear it every day?
"Hey, Jon. Um, how was your weekend?"
Jon snorted. "Not that great - the Mets blew it."
He chuckled and slowly realized that I wasn't laughing along with him. How could I? I just savored the sound of his laugh. "Um, Stephen? Is something wrong?"
I swallowed. "Um."
"Oh...my God. Did you....?" His voice cracked and my heart broke further. "Did you tell her?"
I nodded and then remembered we were talking on the phone. "Yeah."
"And...um...am I to believe it, uh, it didn't go well?"
I shook my head. "Nope. Didn't...uh...didn't go well."
"Well how could it, right?" I detected the slightest hint of annoyance and derision in Jon's voice.
"Jon," I said. "I had to tell her."
He sighed. "I know, Stephen. I know."
Silence. I listened to him breathing and prayed this wouldn't give him an asthma attack. "Um, Jon...can we have lunch today?"
"Are you sure that's all right?"
"Yeah, just--." I stopped myself before saying just one last time. "Yeah, it's fine."
"Okay," he said. "I'll meet you at the cafe?"
"No!" I said. "Um, no. Let's have lunch at your office."
"O-kay," said Jon warily. "Noon?"
"I'll be there," I replied.
Jon hung up and I choked back the tears. I had a meeting to go to. This was no time to be sobbing uncontrollably. I took a few deep, calming breaths and tried to forget Jon - for now. There'd be time later to say goodbye properly. I didn't want to tell him this was probably our last lunch together. No sense in upsetting him - yet.
I couldn't stand the thought of the pain I'd see in his eyes.
This is the last time
that I will say these words
"Hey, Stephen!"
His cheerfulness only made me sadder. I knew what I was here to do, he didn't. I smiled as best I could and held him tight - and maybe a little too long - when he hugged me. I breathed in his scent and tried not to cry. Apparently, I failed.
"Stephen," he said, still holding me tightly. "It's okay."
"What is?"
"Whatever you're sobbing about," he said.
I touched my cheeks and was surprised to find tears there. I hadn't realized I'd started crying. I hugged him closer and buried my face in his shoulder. He patted my back and whispered things in my ear. I don't know what he said. All I remember was his touch and the feeling of being safe within his arms.
At long last I pulled away from him, wiping my nose sloppily on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. There were tears on Jon's face too and I wiped them away with my thumb. He was gazing at me, clearly concerned for my well being - or at least my sanity.
"Stephen, baby. What's the matter?" he asked and his words carried such tenderness that I almost began to cry again.
"Oh Jon," I moaned. I took my glasses off and pinched the bridge of my nose. Jon rubbed my arm gently, waiting patiently for me to able to speak. "Jon...we can't see each other anymore."
"Well, that goes without saying now doesn't it?" he said, giving me a bitter little smile as new tears fell from his eyes.
"No," I said. "I mean...we can never...she won't let me see you anymore."
Jon's eyes widened. "Not even...not even as friends?"
I shook my head and let out a choked sob. "I don't blame her. We've been assholes. I don't know why we even..."
I couldn't finish the sentence. Jon was staring at me with those damn blue eyes of his and I knew exactly why we'd started this.
"I love you," I choked and he gathered me in his arms once more.
I remember the first time
The first of many loves
"Stephen?" Jon reached a hand up from the floor to touch my arm lightly. "I love you."
"No," I said firmly. "Don't say that, it's ridiculous. You had one silly dream about me, you kiss me and now we're sitting here in our own filth. That is not grounds for love, Jon so don't say it. We're both still drunk, you don't know what you're saying."
"Stephen, I do love you."
I looked up and saw him start to shake his head. I gave him a stern look. "No, Stephen. Don't. Just don't. I. love. you."
The tears broke loose and streamed down Stephen's cheeks, coming to rest on the collar of his shirt, making it damp. I caught a tear with my thumb before it could fall down his face. "Please, don't cry."
"I care about you, Stephen. This is not for shits and giggles," I said, using his phrase. "I love you."
Stephen smiled with tears still falling from his eyes. In a hoarse whisper he said it. "I love you, Jon."
With my hand still on the back of his head, I pushed him towards me, forcing our lips together. I could taste his tears on his soft lips and felt myself begin to cry.
Sweep it into the corner
or hide it under the bed
Say these things, they go away
But they never do
"This is the end, isn't it?" said Jon.
I nodded, tears still coursing down my face. We were sitting on the couch now and he still had his arms wrapped firmly around me. "I'm afraid it is."
"Stephen," he breathed, rubbing my back as I sobbed anew. "Stop crying. Please. You're just making me cry even more."
"I know, I know," I sobbed. "Don't cry because it's over-"
"-smile because it happened," he finished, his voice cracking in the middle. "Just think...we've had a wonderful...oh, Stephen. I love you so much."
"I keep thinking," I said, trying to contain my tears. "Of all the time we wasted. All the time we could have been..."
"No, Stephen," said Jon, silencing me. "It doesn't work that way. We got the time we got and that...that was a gift, as it is."
I sniffled. "I guess you're right. It doesn't make it hurt any less, Jon. I know it's been wrong but...to just cut you out of my life? It's impossible."
Jon took me by the shoulders and lifted me off his chest so he could look at me. "Stephen...I just want you to know...these past three months have been--"
"Jon, don't," I said, waving my hand. "Please don't. It'll only make it worse."
"I don't care," said Jon, gritting his teeth against his tears and shaking me slightly. "No. If this is the end, I want you to know what it's meant to me, damn it. I love you, Stephen Colbert. And I want you to know that the past three months have been....they've been amazing. I - it's not like I was unhappy before but, God, you gave me something."
I nodded. My face hurt from crying so much but I couldn't stop. "Same here, Jon. You...I can't explain it but you gave me something, it's...it's exactly like you said. This has filled a hole that...I didn't know was there."
Jon nodded, wiping his eyes. It was no use, as soon as he wiped away his tears, more fell in their place. "Damn it, Stephen. I still can't explain this, after all this time."
I sighed. "Did it need to be explained?"
He shook his head, "No."
"All that mattered was that we had it," I said in a small voice. "And now Evie wants me to explain it. I can't...I can't explain it. But I feel like I owe it to her."
Jon sighed, a deep, heavy, world-weary sigh and rubbed his eyes. "I have to tell Tracey."
I nodded wordlessly. I didn't want to be the one to tell him this, I was glad he'd come around to it himself.
"Evie will probably tell her anyway," he said.
I nodded again. "I can't see her keeping it from Tracey now that she knows."
Jon nodded grimly, his eyes - still leaking at the corners - darting around the room. "I can't believe it's all collapsing in on us like this. I thought we'd have it forever."
It was my turn to smile bitterly. "Foolish. Foolish of both of us to think something like that. We knew we had other commitments."
Jon nodded. "I knew you'd never go back on that vow."
"And I knew you wouldn't go back on yours."
A silent question hung between us. So why did we do it? It didn't need to be answered. It had already been answered in the touch of his hand and the soft press of his lips to mine. I already knew. Something unspeakable, unknowable existed between us and it may never be defined. But it was there, and there was no denying it.
"I love you, Stephen," breathed Jon. He took my hand in his and kissed the knuckles fervently. "I want you to know that it wasn't the sex. God, it wasn't that."
I nodded, clutching his hand. "I know. You made that pretty clear, Jon. Believe me, you don't have to say it. I know. And the same goes for me."
Jon nodded. "I know."
We sat there for a few minutes, just ticking away the seconds with each other. It must have looked like a scene in some cheesy movie - Jon clutching my hand and holding it to his lips and me sobbing all over the place. We didn't care. Having Jon hold my hand felt comforting after all he'd said about not being able to when he wanted.
Moments passed and I had to look at my watch. I knew it killed the mood but what if Evie called the office during my lunch hour? It was twelve forty-five. Where had the time gone? Where had the weeks and months of bliss gone?
"I have to go," I whispered.
"I know," he whispered back. "I don't want you to ever leave me."
I shut my eyes tight against more tears and continued clutching his hand, conveying in that one embrace how much he meant to me and how much it hurt to leave.
Jon swallowed and let go of my hand, slowly unclenching his fingers from mine and dropping his hand to the couch.
"I...I accept this," he said. "I realize you have a commitment to Evie, I have one to Tracey. We have to do what's right."
"Yes, what's right," I repeated. I didn't want to say it out loud but what felt right at that moment was to stay seated on this couch with Jon for all of eternity.
Reluctantly, I stood up from the couch and Jon followed. He looked up at me and I looked down at him. Our eyes met and there was the pain I'd so dreaded to see. I could tell his heart was breaking just as mine was.
"Goodbye, Jon," I said, trying my hardest to keep my voice steady.
"Bye, Stephen," he said, touching the sleeve of my sweatshirt ever so slightly with the very tips of his fingers.
I started toward the door, striving not to make this any more painful than it had already been. I couldn't leave without saying goodbye properly, though. Halfway there, I turned on my heel and strode back toward him. I grasped him on either side of his face, stroking the grey - almost white - hair at his temples.
"I love you, Jon Stewart," I said through gritted teeth, staring straight into his blue eyes. "Nothing can ever change that. Just remember that I love you."
As Jon's face crumpled into renewed spasms of agony, I pressed my lips to his and tasted the salt of his tears. It wasn't insistent, it wasn't lustful. It was soft and gentle and caressing. He buried his fingers in the hair at the back of my neck and we moved together. Our lips didn't part, our tongues didn't tangle. This was enough to tell each other how much everything meant.
Eventually, we had to pull away for air. Jon gasped slightly and I lovingly caressed his cheek with my thumb.
"If I could stand here with you forever," I whispered to him. "I would."
He nodded, unable to speak for crying silently and doing all he could to hold in the sobs.
"Maybe one day..."
"No," he choked. "Don't. Don't give me false hope. It hurts enough, Stephen."
I nodded and reluctantly let go of his face. I turned and left the office. This time I didn't turn back, I didn't say goodbye one last time. We could go on forever with glances backward and muttered goodbyes as we held each other. It would never end. But it had to, we both knew that.
I returned to my office and slapped my face with cold water in the bathroom, trying to rid my eyes of their persistent redness.
I regained my composure just in time for Evie to call. When I spoke with her, I tried to act as though I hadn't just had my heart ripped out of my chest.
This is the last time
that I will show my face
One last tender lie and
then I'm out of this place
When Stephen left my office, I locked the door and sat behind my desk. I just needed a moment to myself. My chest was aching and I didn't know it was from all the crying or the fact that Stephen had walked out of my life. Forever. That had come as a complete surprise. I knew we would have to get rid of our romantic relationship, that was a given. But for Evie to suggest that we stop being friends, essentially, was uncalled for. I didn't blame her though. I knew what we had done. She had every right to be suspicious for the rest of her days. But Stephen had become a part of me. He'd always been a part of me. To not see him every day would be like not having my right hand.
I still had to work. I was very conscious of the fact that I still had a show to put on tonight. I didn't know how I was going to go on air with these red eyes and this broken heart. I was having a hard enough time making light of the financial crisis and general state of shit the country was in. Now I had to work through my own, personal agony as well. It was all too much.
I felt a tickle in my chest and began to cough. As I gasped, trying to free my windpipe from the invisible restrictions, I groped in my desk drawer for my inhaler. I found it and took a deep breath of the soothing medicine. Tasted different when you'd been sobbing for an hour - a little saltier. If only there was a medicine I could inhale that would fill my heart and rid it of this hole that suddenly existed.
Stephen's softly spoken words were cemented in my mind. Maybe one day..., he had said. But no, I knew it would just be fooling myself to think that someday we could be together again. Most of all I knew that hoping would only make me hurt more. This hurt enough as it was. I set my elbows up on the desk and lowered my head into my hands. Maybe with time it would stop hurting, this dull ache in my chest may subside as the days marched on.
But I knew this feeling wouldn't go away anytime soon. I had to tell Tracey now. I had to re-live all of this agony and combine it with her dissaproving looks and a hell of a lot more crying. I envied Stephen just slightly, he'd already told and gotten it out of the way. I dreaded going home tonight.
I got up to unlock the door. I couldn't sit here crying and pitying myself forever, what was the use of that? Just as I opened the door, John Oliver and Wyatt Cenac were approaching my office.
"Hi, Jon!" said John, waving cheerfully.
"Oh, hi," I said. Just who I didn't need to see, the happy and open couple. "What's up, guys?"
"We wanted to talk to you about an idea we had," said Wyatt. "Hey, man, is something wrong?"
"What? What do you mean?" I said, keeping my eyes to the floor.
"Your eyes look a bit...red," said John.
"Oh, uh, yeah...allergies."
"Um, we just saw Stephen leaving," said John. "Did something happen with him?"
"Guys, I don't want to talk about it right now, all right?"
"The least we can do is help though," said Wyatt. "I mean, you two are the reason we got together."
"Yeah!" I screamed. "And it isn't just fucking lovely? You get to go prancing around, holding hands and kissing each other senseless at Emmy parties while Stephen and I are left to sneak around and feel like crap!"
"Whoa, Jon, calm down," said John, holding his hands up.
"No! I won't calm down. God...damn it." I ran my hands roughly through my hair several times and wandered aimlessly around my desk. "This is fucking unbelievable. How could this happen? It was so...perfect. And now it's gone."
I sunk weakly into my desk chair and laid my head on the hard, wooden surface of my desk as I began to cry. I felt John Oliver's hand on my back, gently rubbing, trying to comfort me. "It's okay, Jon. Let it all out. It'll be fine."
I sobbed and sobbed, breath getting caught in my chest as I watched tears fall to the floor near my feet. How could I still have tears left? I choked on my tears and clutched at my aching chest. John handed me my inhaler and I took a long, deep breath of medicine, trying to calm myself down.
"Jon, you're going to hyperventilate," said John and I detected genuine worry in his voice. "Just calm down."
"It's so...unfair," I sobbed, shaking my head. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eye sockets until I saw stars and swirling patterns of color. I wanted it all to go away.
I was walking down a long, sterile, white hall with no end in sight. The silence was pressing in on me from all sides and I just wished I could hear something, anything. As I thought that, loud coughing erupted from somewhere behind me - or was it in front of me? It was all around me. Someone was choking, unable to breath. My eyes darted around to see who it was but all I could see was white.
Wheezing sounds echoed all around me. I covered my ears, willing it all to go away. I longed for the silence once more. But it was no use, I couldn't undo my wish. Everything was amplified in the long, empty hallway. I couldn't escape the horrible, horrible noise.
Just then, I realized that there were doors leading off of the hallway. I began to run down the hall, peering into each room as I passed it, hoping to find whoever was suffering. No one. There was no one in any of the rooms. They were all empty but still the sound persisted.
Then I noticed a door at the far end of the hallway. I began to run towards it as the coughing and gasping became more and more frantic. The door seemed to get farther away the faster I ran. But I kept running, my heart pounding as the gasping reached its height. Was someone dying?
Just as I finally reached the door and my hand touched the doorknob, all the gasping and coughing ceased. I turned the doorknob and opened the door to find Jon lying crumpled on the floor of the otherwise empty room. I rushed to his side and pulled his head gently into my lap. He was so still. I leaned down near his face but could hear no breath.
"Jon!" I screamed, shaking him by the shoulders. "Jon! Breathe!"
Nothing. He lay motionless in my lap. I laid him down flat on the floor and began CPR but just as I did, I felt someone tugging on my arm. I turned to see Evie. She pulled me away from him and no matter how much I screamed and protested, I couldn't break free from her.
Jon got smaller and smaller as Evie pulled me down the hallway until I could no longer see him at all. He was gone.
"Stephen! Stephen, wake up!" Evie shook Stephen vigorously by the shoulder. He was moaning, tossing and turning. She kept shaking him, her own hands shaking as he tried to pull him from his unconscious torment. At last he let out a pained yelp like an injured animal and his eyes snapped open. "Stephen! Are you okay?"
"No," he breathed, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath. Tears fell silently down his face, as though his eyes were acting of their own accord. He seemed to be in shock.
"Stephen, what happened?"
"Nightmare," he choked, covering his eyes with his hand.
Evie wanted to accuse him of dreaming about Jon but she held her tongue. Stephen looked so scared, she couldn't bring herself to say something that would only make him more upset. She rubbed his chest gently as his breathing became more even.
"It's okay, Stephen," she muttered. "It was only a dream."
"So real," he whispered, still covering his eyes. "It was so real."
"What happened?" She couldn't resist asking.
Stephen shook his head. "Don't want to talk about it."
Evie bit her lip. "I understand."
"You don't," he said under his breath. She almost didn't hear. She decided to pretend that she hadn't. She turned over onto her side of the bed and tried to get back to sleep. Stephen did the same.
At that same moment in New York City, miles from the small New Jersey suburb, Jon Stewart lay awake with horrific recollections of a dream about a bear attack and a man torn to shreds. Tears traced silent patterns down his pale cheeks and he resolved to tell Tracey later that week, rather than in the morning as he had planned.
They say that some things never die
Well I tried, and I tried
I spent most of Tuesday morning trying to forget what a disaster Monday had been. In keeping with the vein of things going horribly, the show hadn't been wonderful. And as it wound down, I began to realize I'd have to do the toss with Stephen. Our first toss after the thing had blown up in our faces.
It wasn't very funny. I'd told DJ not to put anything sexual or suggestive in it. He hadn't asked questions - bless his soul - and had quickly thrown together something about Stephen joking with my Jewishness. It was a surefire plan, always had been. It was a good thing to fall back on to just play upon Stephen's character's prejudices.
We'd read the prompters, we did the jokes, we welcomed the laughs. But the whole thing felt hollow somehow. As an added distraction, the minute Stephen appeared on camera, I was hard. He shot me that prize winning smile and I wanted to leap through the camera and take him. I was angry with myself for being so easily aroused. I knew I shouldn't even be having those feelings anymore. But what was I going to do? There was no off switch I could flick.
After the show, I rushed off to the dressing room, mostly to just be alone. The realization slowly fell upon me that Stephen was not coming. He may never come again. The dressing room felt cold and sterile without his presence next to me on the couch.
Was everything going to feel hollow without Stephen?
Tuesday morning was all about forgetting Monday. I turned off my emotions, I tried not to feel. I knew that if I thought about all of it for too long or dwelled upon the sadness and unfairness, I'd never be able to do the show. The toss was painful. I hadn't thought about that, we'd still have to do tosses. That'd probably be the hardest part of all of this. Still seeing each other and pretending everything was okay.
Now I sat in my office during my lunch hour, with an untouched sandwich sitting on my desk. If I'd thought that confessing would settle my stomach, I'd been an idiot. Well, it had worked for a little while. But as soon as Evie had forbid me from seeing Jon, something new took weight in my stomach in place of the guilt. A horrible mass of missing Jon, wanting Jon, and all the while knowing it was impossible.
I had to do something. I couldn't keep sitting around with my thoughts floating stagnant in my head. I picked up the phone and dialed a number that had never failed to get me into trouble.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Paul, it's Stephen."
Paul sounded pretty surprised to be hearing from me. "Um, hey Stephen. What's going on? Why are you calling me?"
I sighed. "Paul. You were right, we should get together and talk things out."
"Really?"
"Yeah, really," I said. "We shouldn't let a friendship fall by the wayside because of some stupid things we did."
"And Jon won't mind?"
I took a deep breath. I didn't want to tell Paul all that had happened. Maybe one day I would. But right now it was still too fresh, it still stung too much. I didn't need Paul's taunting and "I told you so's". "No, Jon won't mind."
"Great," said Paul. "When can we meet?"
"How about on Friday? I don't have work that day so we can have lunch."
"Sounds great!" Paul was clearly very glad we were getting together again. "I'll see you then."
"See you," I said, and hung up. I promised myself that no matter how bad it got, I would not turn to Paul as a substitute for Jon. I was going to keep that promise, no matter what it took. And with this new lunch date penciled into my datebook, it was going to take a lot of strength.
Each day was taking more and more strength now that Jon wasn't there with me.
A/N: As always, the floor is open to any and all suggestions you may have! All commenters get to play "Seven Minutes in Heaven" with Jon and/or Stephen. -waggles eyebrows-
