A/N: For Keri, who asked me to fic this song. Johnlock from Mary POV. Songfic.

This is a story in two takes. In the first, I tried to style it after an actual songfic where I just use my own lyrics in the place of the song's. Failing that, as structured writing has long since deserted me, I would just write a fic with the idea and some of the words of the song. I wrote both. They're both Mary to John 1st person present POV.

Set to Passenger's "The Way That I Need You," found here: you tube [dotcom] / watch?v=O2whdkOZ5tc

The Way That I Need You

Take 1

Since he came back, your attention strays/You told him to go when you really meant stay/Still I'm losing you in so many ways/And I know you're still counting the days

He's the dark shadow that looms overhead/The distance between us even in our bed/Lately you've barely heard a word that I've said/He wasn't the only one dead

So go back to where you belong/We both know that it's there/ I know that you tried with me/ But I couldn't make you happy/ I just want to be needed somewhere

It was a nightmare you hadn't had in years/ The most persistent of all your fears/ The name you gasped as your eyes rained tears/ Your love for him was clear/I know that he holds your heart/Circumstances ripped you apart/ You're hurt now, but you'll love him again like you did at the start/ And the two of us will part

So go back to where you belong/We both know that it's there/I can't fill your void/You're my hopes and dreams destroyed/ But every toy gets its wear and tear

I know that you tried with me/ But I couldn't make you happy/ I just want to be needed somewhere/ I just want to be needed somewhere

The Way That I Need You

Take 2

He's been a part of you for as long as I've known you. Longer, actually; years longer, but I'm not even sure you knew it back then.

He's always been a part of the way you walk. And how could he not? He was the one that got you over your psychosomatic limp.

I know you still keep the cane, just to remind yourself you don't need it.

But he's in that swagger, that confidant stride that eats up the ground beneath you and speaks of unabashed power and unquestionable authority. It was the first thing that attracted me to you, that walk.

And I'm not saying that walk is all him. No, even without his help, I'm sure that was all in you just dying to come out. But his influence cannot be ignored.

And that's the issue, isn't it?

He's always been the balloon wrapped around your gait, but he's no longer lifting you up with him. Now he's deflated, a dead weight dragging at you and you just refuse to cut ties.

We never talked too much about getting married. We'd mention it in passing, still getting a feel for the idea of a lifetime of each other. But we'd smile that secret, knowing smile between us and that had said it all.

It was almost a foregone conclusion.

Until he showed back up.

I see the way he looks at you, the way he looks at me.

When he looks at you… I WISH someone would look at me with such intensity of emotion, such a depth of barely contained passion. You don't look at me that way. Your looks at me are with love and affection and contentment.

When he looks at me… I see hate. Well disguised, but I can see it. It's buried under envy and on the surface, a sad sort of acceptance.

I don't even think it's personal, or not overly so. I imagine anyone in my position would receive the same treatment.

He thinks I'm what you want. I think you and I both know better.

I see the way you look at him.

When you look at him… there is this sad sort of longing in your gaze.

I used to think it was just you missing the life you'd led with him, before his "fall." The chase and the thrill and the adrenalin. I know you've missed them for awhile now.

And really, I'd have been fine with you continuing that life. Worried, of course, by the danger you were putting yourself in, but I certainly wouldn't have stopped you from doing something you thought you needed.

But I think we both, or at least I, know that that life isn't all you want anymore.

There haven't been any talks of marriage lately, not even in passing.

Every time I imagine us getting married now, I see the pastor asking if there are any with a reason for us not to wed, and he bursts through the door right on cue yelling, "It's not too late!"

You'd have asked him to be your best man, of course. He'd have declined, giving some asinine excuse why he couldn't do it, while I was aware that the real reason was because he couldn't actually watch you wed another. And despite the fact that he'd hurt you with his refusal to be there to begin with, I know that you'd wait for him.

He doesn't make any advances on you. Fear of rejection, I imagine. I doubt that it's out of any respect for your relationship with me.

And you don't come on to him; not that your conflicted views of your sexuality would even allow for it. But even if they did, you're too noble a man for even the thought of that.

Yet he still manages to string your heart along.

Promises of all the thrills and excitement we all know you desperately crave that I can never give you. You hedge, thinking of me.

Even I can tell that you love him.

We don't discuss him much, this man that you devoted years of your life to, even after his supposed death. And he doesn't come around that often, for perhaps any number of reasons.

Giving you time to forgive him.

Avoiding me.

Tempting you back to a life with him.

I see how hard it is for you, every time he leaves. See the way your limbs twitch, as if to go after him like you used to.

I know it was difficult for you to let him go that first time he showed back up, even as angry with him as you were. You touched him a lot, as if to keep confirming he was actually there. You dragged his time out, lingering over the door as you bid farewell, as if afraid he would vanish like so much smoke once the door blocked your view of him. I saw the way you stood at the door even after you'd closed it after him. I wondered if you wanted to open it up and call him back, prove to yourself again that he wasn't one of the figments that haunted you in the early days of his disappearance.

His parts of you were growing again, even then.

Despite our failure to speak of him, he is always there. The wedge that's pushed between us now, the silent elephant in the room that doesn't even try to hide its presence. It doesn't have to talk; we all know it's there. Its size and existence are loud enough to drown out anything we'd have had to say, anyway.

He haunts you again. You say his name in your sleep every so often. I don't think it's all nightmares anymore, the ones of his fall taking precedence over your visions of the war. Sometimes you say his name on a sigh, your lips curving into a small smile as you slumber.

Maybe it's only me that he's haunting.

Alcohol does not agree with him. I suppose that's why he's always avoided it around me until now.

His tongue is looser than usual. You tell me this is closer to the way you knew him years ago, before he became somewhat restrained after returning.

You smile. You've missed this louder, coarser, stroppier version of him.

He starts talking to you. I'm not even sure you're really listening, but you've got on the biggest smile as he rants and raves. I've never seen that smile. I think it might be just for him.

He gets closer, invading your personal space and you shift to accommodate his added mass. Your body adjusts to this new and simultaneously familiar part of you.

When he kisses you, you don't stop him.

I think it's time I say my goodbyes, don't you?

I love you, but it's become clear to me that love will never be returned in equal measure. Not now. Not since him.

I envy the love you have for him without even knowing you do.

I'm just craving for a love I never knew.

And I have to go before I stop believing a love like that will come to me.

You were my best shot.

No, I'm not saying you misled me. I think you gave us your level best. But we could never be what you are with him.

No, I will not stay so we can try it again. I will not let you mistreat me, intentional or no. Nor will I let you lie to yourself and convince yourself this is something it's not, could be something it can't.

Go, we both know that you belong with him.

I guess I always knew that you were his. I just never realised how much until he returned.

He's captured your heart in a way I never could.

So do me a favour and love him good. One of us deserves all of you.

And I know you love me. You just don't need me the way that I need you.