Ships That Sail on Water

She wakes up at night, reaching for his body which is not there. She reaches for the blankets expecting his frame, but it isn't there. It's never there. It hasn't been there for many, many cycles. Strange, how used she is to his body lying next to hers, hearts beating as one, though she only knew him for a day, maybe two. It was long enough to know that she couldn't be the same without him. Time with him moved so fast, yet it was the best time of her life.

Sitting up, she sees the bed as it truly is. Empty, hollow, his side still untouched from how he had left it last. Running her fingers over it, she could still feel the warmth he left in his wake, the warmth that still lingered. It was one of the only things left that made her believe that he was really real at all.

A single tear ran down her face, her hearts aching for reasons she still cannot understand. She never thought she'd be one to fall in love, especially with someone as callous and strange as John Carter, but she did. Against her better judgement she was sure. That impossible man, John Carter from Jasoom, who had saved her in so many ways that she had lost count, who had fought for her and by her, and promised her forever in their vows.

And now he's gone.

Getting up, she moved across the room to the balcony, out and into the open air. The night was a rusty blue color, and in the distance, she could see stars, the few that shone this far out in the system. They were rare, the brightest few breaking through the blackened skies, and her father used to tell her that they all shined for her. She only wished they would now. And then, if she looked farther up, the two moons were aglow, one smaller than the other - one where there was no life, and one where her John Carter now rested.

So far away...so far from her.

She was told nothing of his disappearance, no more knowledge coming to light after his departure on that blissful wedding night of theirs. One moment he was there, the next, vanished into thin air with no one around to recall his fate. For a while, she had thought maybe he had decided to leave, maybe he no longer wished to stay there, on Barsoom with her. But then she thinks of his heart and how far he had come in those days she was with him, how he had changed, and she puts her mind at ease. She does not know how or why, but she knows that whatever happened to him wasn't of his own doing, that he would find his way back. She won't have to spend her nights alone forever. He was of a different mettle now.

She looks up at the larger moon and thinks of him, of what he told her about his home. She thinks of the ships that sail on the seas, not the sky, and how much he must love the sight of those. Perhaps when he returns to her, and he will, she knows, he'll tell her more about them. Maybe, when he gets back, he'll take her to see them.

He wakes up alone, empty and cold, like a stranger in his own body. He turns on his side, expecting to meet of pair of deep blue eyes smiling just for him. But they aren't there, and his hope deflates once more, just like it has every day for the past ten years. Strange, he thinks, how fast she cured his broken heart, brought him out of the dark and gave him meaning again, only for that son of a bitch of a Thern to strip it away in a second. Strange, how much he grew to care for her for those few days even though he tried not to. Now it just hurt to remember.

He gets up and goes through the motions of life like a robot, just like he has done every day since returning. Get up, eat breakfast, search for a medallion, eat lunch, search, eat dinner, search, go to bed, repeat. It was unbelievably numbing, yet he couldn't stop. Not until he was back home.

Home.

He wondered when he had started to consider Mars his home. It definitely wasn't any time recently, no. It was more like a change in his soul. After his first wife and child died, this world held nothing for him. There was nothing rooting him here, nothing to keep him from going. He was a man without a cause here on Earth. On Mars, he had purpose, he had friends, a people to lead, and it was all ripped away in a heartbeat.

How stupid he was to have thrown the medallion away! He never should've let his guard down. He let himself fail the Tharks; he was their leader and now he was gone, left them alone and without a ruler to guide them. He let himself disappoint Helium; he was their prince now, a savior and hero, and he just left them defenseless after escaping the throws of war. But most of all, he let Dejah down; the one person he couldn't bear to lose had slipped right through his fingertips because of his rash behavior. But he swore on his life he would return, and he would return. That or he would die trying.

But as more days blend together and the nights grow and fade, he begins to wonder how much more he can take. After ten years, he hasn't even come close to finding another talisman, and he is beginning to wonder if there are even anymore left. But he can't abandon hope. He has to devise a new plan, or else he may never get back.

He looks up at the stars, and right over the horizon line, he can see it, the tiny speck of red just bigger and brighter than a star. Mars. He smiles to himself and salutes towards the planet, a promise to be kept, a greeting waiting to be received. And he would deliver it, and perhaps, when he does, Dejah will still be there to get it.

Time moves slower on Barsoom, the days and nights longer than on Jasoom, and it has been precisely five years and two-hundred and six days since she has last seen him. It is too long, an eternity.

Her father tells her to remarry, to move on. Obviously John Carter wasn't meant for this world. He must've left for a reason. Perhaps it was for the best?

But she shrugs him away every time, smiling sadly. He doesn't know just how much this strange man means to her. She doesn't think he really will.

So she waits, and waits, and waits, but she wonders how much more she'll have to.

Even she has her doubts sometimes, and even the strongest of warriors can become weary over time.

He is done waiting. Finally, everything is in place; he is finally prepared to go home. He has his death, his tomb, his keeper, and now all he needs is the talisman, which his nephew had so unknowingly led straight to him. He was so grateful to the innocent boy.

The look of shock and confusion on the boy's face was priceless as he saw the 'dead' rise again. His nephew was even more aghast when he shot a man behind him, the face changing as he died from a mousy business man into a bald man with a pale white complexion. It was the Thern who had sent him back now laid to rest, a satisfaction that somehow evened the score of years of pain inflicted by his hand. He takes the talisman out of the dead man's jacket pocket and tells his nephew what to do, to keep his body safe and let no one inside his tomb. He was never conciously coming back if he had any say in it, and he would remain on Mars as long as his human body went unharmed. Thankfully, the boy understood, and he was eternally grateful.

Locking the tomb behind him, he laid himself down on top of the coffin, his body resting in a bed of white roses and soft linens. He'd never see them again, and he smiled. He muttered the words Dejah had told him oh, so long ago, and saw blue flash under his closed lids. There was warmth all around him, a peaceful sense of flying, and when his mind settled, he could feel the beating of a sun pulsating on his body.

After all these long years, he was home.

She wakes up in the night, reaching for his body, and finds herself curled into his strong chest, warm arms around her. Smiling, breathing him in, she still has to remind herself she isn't dreaming, that the warmth she felt was really his and not a shadow that would disappear in the morning. It was almost too good to be true, his being there again, falling from the sky just like before.

She had woken up that morning expecting to be alone, but she was going to sleep by his side, just like she dreamed.

It was like a dream, really, his return. He was there by her side as she awoke, his face coming into focus as she opened her eyes. He took her breath away, barely looking as if he had aged a day, save for the weight of many lonely years evident in his eyes, and she swore she could've wept in joy as he embraced her. There was no need for questions and words; those could be saved for later. All she wanted now was to be by his side, to touch him and remind herself to stay awake, to keep breathing. She never wanted to miss a another moment.

Her father was thrilled for her as they descended into the throne room hours later. The council was gathered, banquets planned and enacted, and by the end of the day, there was celebration all throughout Helium. Feasts and celebrations were held everywhere, loud music, stories, and games were shared, but she had no need for those to show her joy. Unwanting of public attention, she discretely departed from the palace halls, John Carter taking her lead as he followed her early to bed.

Together, that was all she needed, all she wanted. After all this time, he was far worth the wait.

He's standing out over the balcony, just like he did ten years ago before he was thrown from the planet, and the view hasn't changed a bit. It's still just as captivating, still as strange and unnerving as the chasms of the desert expanded on and on. He tried to imagine an ocean, vast and wide in the desert's place as there had been in a time before Helium. Perhaps that was something he could try to fix - bring the oceans back to Mars. It didn't seem so impossible; they already had rivers as far as he had seen. Besides, he had ended a centuries-long war in a matter of days; an ocean shouldn't be that much more difficult to restore in comparison.

Just above him, he could see the Earth, completely different from this perspective, yet absolutely the same. From here, it looked like a lifeless mass of grey rock, nearly identical to the moon, but there was more opaque color to it. He could faintly make out the differences between the oceans and land, the green just barely darker than the blue. Maybe at one time, Mars looked like that too before the Therns took over.

The planet was so out of reach, just as far and foreign to him now as it was when it was under his own two feet. Barsoom was his home now, and he never wanted to leave again.

The Jeddak of Helium and members of the Thark tribes had found him lying back in the same spot as before, covered in dust and grinning like a mad man. They welcomed him with open arms and revelry, hailing his return as a blessing. If it were up to him, he would've jumped his way to the city, but he stood through the hours-long flight to Helium with his allies, becoming more and more anxious the nearer he came to the grand metropolis. He dismounted the ship only to be crowded again, causing quite a scene. He was sure the whole providence had been alerted by that point; everyone had to know he was here. He was in the center of an anxious crowd in the palace halls when he saw her, standing there across the room, and everything stopped.

She was radiant. She had barely aged in his eyes, just as strong and beautiful as he remembered. Her eyes were focused on him, glassy, and it was then that he realized that she was crying. So he ran, pushed through the talking elders to meet her, catching her up in his arms and spinning her round, making her laugh breathlessly. He put her down on the ground but didn't let go, instead choosing to lean down to her level and place a kiss upon her lips. There was so much he had to make up for, so much time he had lost with her, and he would start with a kiss, a promise of forever.

He would never let go again. He hadn't let go of her for one moment until now.

He hears footsteps behind him now, soft and curious, breaking his train of thought, and he turns to see Dejah, looking both frantic and relieved, wearing a thin robe that billowed around her. At first, he took her expression as one of concern for him, but then, as he took in her sweaty brow and white pursed lips, he registered the real meaning. She was worried, scared that he had left again when she found their bed empty. Her chest was trying to even itself out, the heaving of heavy breaths returning to normal. No matter how good a warrior she was, no matter how hard she fought it down now, she was scared, and he could see she was trying her best to hide it.

Immediately, he moved to her, holding her close to him again, feeling her heart beating out of her chest. It made his own heart hurt, knowing he had worked her up so much with an action that had seemed harmless. He knew she would never voice a word of it, she was too stubborn, strong, but he knew her well enough to read into her emotions. He should've known that leaving in the middle of the night would upset her; he knew if she had left it would upset him. He couldn't bear the thought of losing her just as soon as he had found her again.

He doesn't apologize though; he knows there's no need. They're both still trying to process everything, and mistakes are mistakes. He places a simple kiss upon her forehead in its place, a comforting gesture that seems to work. Slowly she calms completely, and they stay still to watch the beginnings of the sunrise together.

It wasn't his fault for leaving, and he knows that she knows that. They'll have time for words and apologies later, but not now. One day, he knows they will tell each other everything about what happened in those missing years, but now, the memories are not important. Only they, in that moment, on that balcony, matter.

They've been quiet for so long, afraid to disrupt the peace of their reunion, but something changes in their course. It has to. He can feel it in the sun, in the way Dejah's fingers are tracing a circle around his heart.

"Tell me about the ships that sail on the water…" she says softly, her eyes focused on her fingers creating patterns on his chest.

He laughs, a small, low laugh, and looks up at the Earth with slight nostalgia. Of course that would be the one thing she remembered.

"Ships that sail on the water," he repeated, now smiling down at her. She was grinning, and she nodded a little sheepishly. He let out an incredulous sigh, trying to think of somewhere to start. Shaking his head at her, he took up her arm and guided it to the Earth above, making her point at the blue patches. He moved her arm with his, the other wrapped across her waist as he told his tale, playing out the scenes of pirates and explorers, and together, they spent the whole morning dreaming of adventures on foaming seas and journies taken in the massive hulls of sailboats. But there was one story that he liked above all the rest.

He dreamed that the ships that sailed on water had brought them together again.