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Jenny Schecter ([info]dont_f_withme) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-22 23:40:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!complete, day 12, jenny schecter, l lawliet, location: gym

Day 12: 3PM
Who: Jenny Schecter & L Lawliet
What: First meeting
When: Day 12: 3pm
Where: The gym
Rating: TBD, PG for now
Status: Active

Jenny had her nose in the journal as she hobbled along with the makeshift crutches. She was busily scribbling as she made her way, haltingly, back to her cot. It had been a long day since the sun had come up. At least for her it had. So much had happened. So much was going to happen. There was something new happening in the journals too. Some strange person interjecting into her writing. That shouldn't have been happening, it wasn't right.

Sneaking back into the gym was a lot easier than sneaking out. All she had to do was pretend she'd gone for a short, healing walk and was just returning. Returning was always less noticeable than leaving for some reason. No one seemed to think it strange that she was coming back from somewhere unseen. Coming back meant she was going to continue the regimin set out by the doctors to help her legs heal. Why would they stop and question that?

She was so distracted that she wasn't sure where she was going until she bumped into a cot and nearly fell down onto the occupant. The makeshift crutches flew sideways and clattered to the floor beside the cot as she unceremoniously fell to the floor instead. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" she asked the person in the cot.


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[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-22 11:14 pm UTC (link)
To say that L was feeling unmotivated would have been the understatement of the week. The young man was in a sorry state: brain soggy with morphine, heart disquieted by news of even more deaths (including the apparent demises of Domeki and Cielo), stitches tearing and re-tearing regularly and terrible pain jarring him out of his slumber every few hours, he was already not doing too well. The conflict with Merope and Laura had made things worse, and now... now it just seemed like there was no longer any point. Fighting was hard enough with the Insider, but now, there was another one in the journals. Crueller, if possible. He stared at the page in his journal, at the ugly words on Jenny's page... necrophiliac. Give up. No one. No spirit. No hope. he touched the words, his heart aching for Jenny, thinking of her cut face, his cheeks burning to know that it had even been implied that...

His journal was knocked abruptly out of his hands by a sharp elbow that narrowly missed his face as a young woman with long, brunette hair and crutches stumbled into his cot. It was alarming and jarring, but fortunately, L wasn't hurt. His injured and hopefully uninfected side had been spared, at least, and his cot was still standing. He pulled himself up, leaning over to peer down at the new arrival to his often-lonely bedside.

Her face had been cut badly. Her legs were injured. The world's greatest detective tilted his head, peering at her with owlish, wide eyes. "...Jenny?" he guessed.

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-22 11:25 pm UTC (link)
Jenny was startled out of her thoughts and out of her journal as it clattered to the floor along with her crutches. She landed not far away on her bottom with a loud, unattractive "Oof!" It took a minute for her to catch her breath and then she glanced at the person in the cot she'd just fallen against. Was he really saying her name? She had never met him before and yet he knew who she was. Fear registered in her expression, brought on by the previous hour's interaction and seeming betrayal.

"I," she began and blinked. "Yes, that's me. Who are you?" she asked. Her eyes gazed speculatively at the person in the cot who was now little more than eye level as she sat on the ground. She could see she'd knocked his journal as well and that he was not completely composed either. In fact, he looked like he was in a great deal of distress. She hoped more than anything it hadn't been her fault with this bumping into cots in a place where people were so injured.

"I'm so sorry. Don't answer that if you don't want to." She was trying to placate him and at the same time she couldn't take her eyes off of him. She wanted to stand up and run but the running she'd done earlier made it impossible for her to move very quickly at all now. She was in more pain than usual and she winced as her hand gripped the edge of the cot while she attempted to pull herself to her feet again. But failed.

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[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-22 11:52 pm UTC (link)
L stared at Jenny, fascinated by what seemed to be scrambling fear. He looked fairly bad, though Laura of course took the prize for being in the worst shape, but he didn't think that anything about his pale, languid appearance was scary. "Your face..." he said quietly, reaching towards his own and touching his cheek. "I thought you might be her. And... it's really OK. You know me, I'm L." he tried to make the words sound casual and harmless, gentle, but the memory of what had been written just now by that new fright was fresh in his mind.

"Do you need any help?" he asked, starting to stand and slip off his cot when he noticed Jenny experiencing further difficulties. "You should really sit down... take it easy."

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-22 11:59 pm UTC (link)
"L?" she asked with both confusion and relief in her voice. Her hands moved automatically to her face, fingers fanning as if to hide what he'd already seen. The bandages and the puffy red skin were more than enough to indicate who she was, but she hadn't thought about it that way. Hadn't remembered she'd told anyone about it because she was so off guard. Taken aback by the new voice in the journals.

"No, oh L," she gasped and put out a hand to his chest. "Don't get up. You should rest. Please don't." Her fingers did little more than rest against him, hoping he would return to his former pose. She didn't want to cause him more pain than she was sure he was in. She wanted to apologize to him for so many things too but nothing would cross her lips.

Instead, she muscled an elbow over the edge of his cot and pulled herself into a more stable condition. Leaning toward him she said quietly, "Do you need anything? Are you okay? Where is Laura?"

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[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-23 10:19 am UTC (link)
L started to protest when Jenny pushed him gently backwards; he was tired of being in bed, an invalid, and helpless, but he was tired, and weak, and even for an injured woman, subduing him was embarrassingly easy. He sighed softly, his mind and legs restless, at odds with the slow mending process. "I don't want to go on," he said, but his eyes widened and he hastily corrected himself. "Sorry... I'm sorry. I... I meant that I don't want this pain to go on... I don't understand why I said that..." he shook his head, staring at the ceiling for several long seconds, before he took a deep breath and tried to answer Jenny's questions.

"I need something, but I don't know what it is. Water, morphine...? I am not OK." it was clear that the new voice over journals was on his mind. "And Laura... Laura is... she's in very bad shape. She's missing an arm, and she's decaying faster now, and one of her eyes is gone, and you can see her organs and bones in some places, where her flesh is torn open. It's too... I can't..." he took a deep, shuddering breath. "It's terrible. I get sick when I see her, and she knows it, and it's hell on us both. Besides, she's mad at me. Merope kissed me when I was brought here with a shovel in my liver, and she heard about it later and got upset." he closed his eyes, and didn't mention the fact that Laura hadn't been there herself, because she was flirting with Gambit. It was hard to think about it... she said that his light had flickered. She'd known that he was dying, and maybe she'd rejoiced somewhere in her thoughts. She had chosen to protect him, but maybe she was weary of his presence, of his neediness, of his weakness.

"You were out on a walk? Did... did you happen to see Laura's arm? I promised her I'd find it, but..." his voice trailed off.

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-23 10:37 am UTC (link)
Jenny caught his beginning protest and pulled her hand back quickly. What had possessed her to touch him anyway? Most people didn't welcome sudden contact from a stranger. Especially when they weren't feeling well. But Jenny felt like she knew him some even though this was the first time they were setting eyes on one another.

She caught her breath in silently and held it, thinking about what he'd said. About what the new voice in the journals had said to him. She hoped to whatever heaven there was that when Gambit or the Doctor decided to spread her secret to the masses that no one attributed her with this new abomination in the journals.

"Do - do you want me to find you some water and morphine?" she curled her legs a bit painfully beneath her, attempting to find leverage enough to pull herself up to a standing position again. She would find him whatever he needed. Do whatever it took because she was so filled with remorse that there was nothing else she could do but help.

When he began talking about Merope and Laura and Laura's injuries, the decay, Jenny stopped trying to stand and stared at him. Her mouth formed a small oh and she barely could whisper, "Oh no. Oh." Swallowing back the lump in her throat that had formed there suddenly, she tried to answer him more coherently. "No, I didn't find her arm. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, L. I don't know what to say. Is there anything I can do?"

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[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-23 11:16 am UTC (link)
While it was true that L had never welcomed being touched by strangers, that wasn't the reason he was startled to feel Jenny's hand on him. He was used to force and strength, being Laura's partner, but the warmth of Jenny's hand, the fact that she was clearly alive, somewhat frightened him. He'd been with a dead woman for so long that he had forgotten what it was to be touched by a living person. Aside from Merope's ineffective grasping and Jean painfully carrying him from the graveyard, life and the ability to identify with it were slipping away from L. But L did know Jenny, even though they were just now meeting, and he calmed quickly, lying back and resting his head on the pillow.

He didn't want to think about those words now... surrounded by so much pain, what were cheap shots to him? The idea that he was undesirable was nothing new to him. He only felt pity for Jenny, being associated with him that way. She must have been insulted.

He nodded slowly when she asked about the morphine and the water, touched by the fact that she was thinking of helping him even though her legs were injured. His pride had started to leave him, these last few days. He had learned to accept that nothing was easy about being hurt this badly, and that he had to rely on as much help as people were willing to give him while his body tried to fix the damage of a rusty shovel. When she reacted to his words concerning Laura, however, looking crestfallen and mournful for him, it was all he could do to keep the lump in his own throat from making him look even weaker. His own sorrow, L could deal with... but it was a profound and terrible thing when others empathized with him. It frightened L to think that human beings could undertake each other so completely, when he was so oftenin the dark. Jenny wanted to know if there was anything she could do, but L couldn't find it in himself to ask for even more help. To send Jenny out on her crutches to do the unpleasant job of searching for a human limb in the ruins of a store filled with toxic fumes would be cruel, especially because she looked like she'd be willing. No... it was L's job. Or Gambit's, he supposed, thinking that it was probable that the other man had his health. For some reason, that thought did it, making tears well up in his formerly dry eyes.

"It's... just... just morphine, if it's not too much trouble. A lot of it."

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-24 03:31 pm UTC (link)
Jenny hadn't been insulted by the new voice in the journals. She'd been confused and scared. Confused because it was obvious that person was not the Insider. She knew that for a fact. And scared because L had sounded so hopeless. As much as could be implied by written words with no tone of voice. His handwriting hadn't been the same somehow. Maybe that was it too. She was worried about him. Worried that maybe the Insider had gotten to him and then this new monster was worsening the issue. Was he really that sensitive? She couldn't sure but what she did know was she hated to hear him so ... there was no other word for it. Hopeless.

She knew he blamed the Insider for what happened to Laura. For what happened to everyone. She couldn't fault him for that. She knew that if he ever found out about her she would most likely lose this friendship. It pained her to think about that, another friendship lost because she had yet again gone about things the wrong way. She could never seem to get it right. She hated herself so much in that moment when he asked for morphine that she grimaced and felt bile begin to rise in the back of her throat.

"Lots? No. L, I ... I have to tell you something." She needed to come clean with him. She couldn't keep this to herself and even if he wouldn't understand, she needed to at least tell him so that he could focus his anger on her and maybe pull himself out of the hopelessness. People had tried to work that psychology on her in the past and it had worked. Maybe she could help him now. Maybe...

"You're not going to like it though. In fact, you might hate me when I'm done and that's okay." She took a shaky breath and looked at him, blue eyes searching his for any sign that he had a clue as to what she was about to tell him.

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[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-24 04:54 pm UTC (link)
"Hopeless" might have been the right word, the right feeling. There were men who were made to withstand pressure and tragedy and pain, and L was certainly better than most. But the last few days had cracked him. While he was a focused, meticulous mind that built sturdy defenses against assailants to his peace and sanity, every human being had its breaking point. Between the almost never-ending pain of his wound, the dizzying array of death and destruction everywhere he turned, and the knowledge that Laura was probably falling for Gambit, he was almost at that point, himself. It was too much too quickly.

She denied him the painkiller, the only thing his wavering mind could think to ask for, and he knew that he was either in danger or Jenny wanted him to be lucid enough to understand her. He blinked blearily, too tired to argue, showing that he understood. He would wait until later, and put himself under when his teeth started to hurt from grinding them together.

"Tell me something?" L echoed, watching her face, trying to understand what she could want to tell him. Despite the fact that they were meeting for the first time, L considered her his closest friend in Vas Captio. They had discussed poetry, and he had actually trained himself to open up slightly to her. It was like nothing he had ever had during his other life, and the pressure and intensity of Laura's proclaimed devotion was off. They were nothing more than two souls who had found something familiar and comforting in each other. If L had to describe it, he'd say that meeting Jenny was like meeting an old childhood friend. An imaginary friend, perhaps. Someone who fit so well with his idealized thoughts about friendship that he might as well have invented her.

Which was why, when he saw her blue eyes staring straight into him, to his fears and that fragile, cracked place that was on the verge of breaking, his heart knew that there was so much more to Jenny than he could ever have imagined. He wasn't ready to hear more bad news.

"Stop. Stop, please. I can't hear it now," L said quietly. "I need to hear something good, or I... it won't..." he shook his head, remembering Jenny's apology over journals to people who knew the whole truth already. "I know it. I feel it... but I'm not ready to hear it. I like you; you've always been kind to me. I have that. Please don't ruin it... I've lost so much."

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-24 05:22 pm UTC (link)
Jenny hadn't meant to refuse him the morphine entirely. She just couldn't bring herself to give him lots as he'd requested because she was afraid for him. Afraid that what she'd read in the journals about him possibly dying soon combined with his seeming hopelessness was a recipe for things she didn't want to ever have to think he might do. Purposefully or accidentally. She didn't want to lose this connection.

Everything felt so heavy right now to Jenny. Everything pressed against her and she was so near to tears. But she swallowed them back, watching him for some sign that he was going to maybe take what she had to say well. She didn't see any way possible that he could. That he'd even listen to her or care. He'd shut her out the way the Doctor had. She was sure of it. Still she felt she owed this to him.

When he asked her to stop, Jenny's mouth opened to protest but she fell silent. She should have known he would figure her out. She should have known he'd see straight through her. Everything in the files had told he what an amazing detective he was. And in spite of that she had learned to open herself to him in ways she hadn't done with anyone in such a long time. Softening to his admonishments, not arguing harshly with him when they disagreed. She valued him so greatly that when he asked her not to tell him she felt such a wave of relief that tears clouded her eyes for a moment.

A flood of apologies wanted to surge out of her in one big gush. He blamed her for more than she had ever had control enough to do. She didn't want him to think badly of her. But he'd asked her not to and his hopelessness nearly broke her heart.

"Okay. Okay, I can tell you something good," she said, her mind struggling through all of the negative things weighing it down to find a grain of hope to pass to him. She wanted to take his hand and say something reassuring but nothing was coming to mind. Then a thought occurred to her. "I wrote a poem for you last night after we talked in the journals. I can find some morphine and then read it to you. The morphine will mask how bad the poem is." She tried to smile some and her hand moved hesitantly out as if to touch his but she rested it on the cot's edge instead. "Would that help any?"

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[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-24 05:57 pm UTC (link)
If anything, the sheen of tears over Jenny's eyes were as good as a confession. But L had seen enough confessions that he knew what remorse looked like. But his mind worked in strange ways. It put barriers in place. It kept his human element safe from the darkest parts of him. It kept the monster in him in check, kept other monsters out, and allowed him to live with the freedom he'd never possessed as a child, before the barriers had started forming. Those days had been spent in corners, a phantom toddler already crippled by the futility of existence, breaking his knuckles with his teeth and his mother's heart with his silence.

He could trust, with the ability to compartmentalize the way he did. He could let others reach him. So, if his suspicions were accurate, and his deductions sound, at least he had not heard a confession to seal everything irrevocably. He would stay safe for that much longer. His smile was worn-out and faded, but completely genuine, as Jenny agreed to refrain from disillusioning him for now. Like a true friend, she'd let his mind keep the phantom with bloody fingers from devouring himself.

"Thank you..." he breathed, sighing the words, fear and wariness leaving his grey eyes. "My friend. No one has ever written a poem for me before, ever. It would be a very good thing, to hear... it would help like nothing else. Could I hear it, please...?"

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-24 06:47 pm UTC (link)
The offer of morphine and a poem seemed to relieve him the way his letting her momentarily off the hook had relieved her. Jenny felt a rush of confidence and smiled at him. Her fingers moved closer to his on the cot, still wishing she could honestly touch him without it being tainted by the unspoken pink elephant between them. She wished she could take back so many things. Ask for help instead of doing what she'd done. She'd been so scared. If she'd had L back then, in the beginning, things would have been so different. She knew that with an astonishing swell of regret that she worked hard to keep from crossing her face.

"I have to go back to my cot and get my writing book. Do you want the morphine? I won't take long, I promise." Her tone was imploring and she watched his face. If she could take away one ounce of his pain and sadness right now she would do whatever she had to do. It wouldn't matter that when she stood up, her legs would hurt like hell. And when she asked for medication for him, she would ask for some for herself. Or... maybe she would just take some.

"Do you need water?" she asked then, knowing one of the cases of water that had been dropped into the center of town had been brought into the gym for the people there. "There was bottled water sent to us today. It was out there with the straw men."

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[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-24 07:00 pm UTC (link)
Hollow-eyed and dry-throated, water and morphine both sounded terrific to L. The prospect of becoming a junkie had never worried him, even when his caretaker had sprinkled cocaine in his food and wired him for nights on end, and the way things were going now, he didn't think that it would matter if he did get addicted to morphine. Death cured addiction, and did a thorough job of it, but L admonished himself for thinking like that. He was already in a better mood, and it made him feel stronger. Jenny was going to read him a poem that had been written for him.

"Please... Both," he said, nodding, raising himself on his elbows. He bit his lip at the way Jenny said "we", but did not comment on it. It was a strange world. "I have not been outside. Straw men...?" the pale man asked, looking puzzled. "What is happening now?"

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-24 08:09 pm UTC (link)
"Straw men," she said and nodded. "Some of the people were replicated in straw with clothes and everything outside. It's strange. Someone said they were meant to burn in effigy according to some tradition." Her tone was honestly bewildered because she had no idea what all of that meant. She was just grateful that neither she nor L had been in the ten straw men. Or Laura for that matter.

This time Jenny couldn't resist. He looked gaunt and ready to expire at any moment and there seemed like little she could do but grant his wishes. As best she could. She reached toward him and took his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze before releasing it again and struggling to stand up once more. It wasn't an easy or pretty demonstration and she gritted her teeth more than once as pain sparked through her.

"Alright, sweetie. I'll be back in just a minute." As quickly as she could, Jenny hobbled away on the makeshift crutches toward the medication stash. All three doctors were busy with patients and none of them looked up when she quickly pocketed a bottle of what she needed and two syringes. Maybe they would miss it, maybe they wouldn't. She didn't care.

She made a brief stop at her cot and dropped her journal onto it, picking up the writing notebook from beneath the blanket. Then she was back at L's side once more, kneeling slowly like an elderly woman with arthritis.

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[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-24 08:55 pm UTC (link)
On hearing about burning, L couldn't help but be a little alarmed, but Jenny seemed more bewildered than concerned. L nodded briskly, hoping that it wasn't an experiment that was meant to kill or maim the individuals involved. The last one, the Earthquake, had been so brutal. He wondered who had been included in the ten, however, and he found himself asking, "Laura was not among them, was she? Or Merope, or Jean or Shannon?" he named people he liked, but he also wondered if Jay or Gambit had been selected.

A side-effect of L's lifestyle was that he often looked a little peakish and ill. Years spent in front of a computer screen, downing cup after cup of coffee and eating sugar and crack with empty calories and cake had bleached his skin and left him thin and listless. Two days of sweating, trembling, and injecting morphine after a being impaled on a shovel certainly didn't improve his appearance, but he hadn't the faintest idea of how pathetic he looked. He just smiled gratefully as Jenny went to fetch water, painkillers and poetry, wincing when he saw her trying to use her legs. It looked arduous and excruciating. Still, she managed to get past the doctors undetected, a feat which impressed (if it didn't quite surprise) L.

"That looks painful. The reason you have two syringes, I assume?"

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-24 09:10 pm UTC (link)
"They were mostly men. The only ones I recognized were the Doctor, Jack and Gambit. I think they're all immortal though. Maybe the rest of them were?" This was part of hiding the truth from him as he'd asked. She recognized all of them. Even Sam whom she'd pretended not to know when she'd talked to Shannon privately in the journals. She wasn't sure how to say anything more without breaking her word not to tell him what he didn't want to know. So she lied. Oh she wanted to throw up. It was good she could leave to get the medication and avoid his further scrutiny.

She'd made a pretty quick circuit of the gym from medication stash to cot and back to L. She was sort of proud of herself for making it on the makeshift crutches. When she was back beside L she felt more at peace. She'd made it. She'd completed her mission and she was done with everything else negative as she'd promised the Doctor even though he'd abandoned her. L knew but he was choosing to ignore it. He hadn't abandoned her. She loved him. She knew it then. He was the other half of her. There was no avoiding that now. He was tattooed on her heart. When she lost him it was going to destroy her.

"It... it is. Yes," she answered, feeling slightly taken aback. But this too she should have realized he would have figured out. The two syringes. One for him, one for her. She unpackaged one needle and poked it into the bottle she'd taken. Drawing back on the plunger just enough to stay within the recommended dosage printed on the bottle, she held it up for a moment before lowering the syringe. "Do you trust me enough to do this, L?"

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[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-24 10:37 pm UTC (link)
The illusion was perfect, and it wasn't hard to continue believing that Jenny was nothing more than a victim of the harsh circumstances. L's heart leapt a little, vindictively, when he heard that Gambit was among the ones trapped. The bastard deserved it, he thought viciously. He'd kept Laura from L when he had needed her there. Not for the relinquishing of her coin, but for the assurance that he was not going to die alone. Even a one-armed embrace, and soft words, and proof of the promise that she was never going to leave him. Instead, Merope had brokenly provided what comfort she could while House had done what he could, and L had stayed alive because he knew he wouldn't have been able to die without the closure his life needed. He was L, a detective whose legacy was worth a little bit of closure.

L, though it disquieted him, felt a connection with Jenny. Even though those dark parts, the ones that knew and stayed isolated, said that it was wrong, he wasn't ready to face it yet. Jenny was made of what he was made of. They were something to each other; cosmic twins, interlocking rings, different halves of something complete. What they were meant to be to each other remained to be seen, but they were the same element, and the signs they were born under strengthened one another. L would have said something, but he didn't want to sound a fool in case Jenny didn't feel it, too.

"It's all right," he said, staring at the needle. By now, he almost welcomed the needle going into his arm, knowing that it would bring intense relief. He glanced up at Jenny. "You know... when I said I would get high with you... I never thought it would be like this."

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-25 08:56 am UTC (link)
Jenny smiled suddenly in spite of herself and the situation when he reminded her of how he'd said he would get high with her. No, this had not been what she had envisioned either when she'd thought about that. "I don't know that I'll ever be doing that sort of getting high ever again," she said, referring to the pot she'd smoked with Shannon and Jack. She'd let her guard so far down with them because of the drug that she could have exposed herself if she hadn't had some kind of cognitive control in spite of it.

With her fingers she found a vein in his arm. Somehow this felt terrible. It felt wrong of her to be doing this but she'd promised to do what he asked, what he needed. She hoped she could do this. "Okay," she said to preface the needle as it slid carefully into his arm. She slowly pushed the pressed the plunger as she'd seen the doctors do, then withdrew the needle again and rubbed the spot gently with her fingertips. "Be quick," she murmured to the morphine.

Instead of pulling out the second needle for herself, Jenny set everything aside and tugged the book from her pocket. She looked a bit self-consciously at L as her fingers found the little ribbon bookmark and opened the book. "It's sort of a rough draft but like I said, the morphine will make it sound brilliant, I'm sure."

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[info]thousandcases
2009-06-25 09:33 am UTC (link)
Those had been lighter days. L had disapproved of the use of weed for recreational purposes, hiding the fact that he had been given harder drugs, and now he was developing a tolerance to opiates like it was his job. In all honesty, he might have tried weed with Jenny, just for a distraction from the stress of dealing with the Insider's taunts and threats. It was a funny, ironic, ridiculous world. He understood, from Jenny's vantage point, why a person with secrets should be careful about unwinding too much.

For someone who wasn't a doctor, Jenny was not bad at finding a vein and injecting morphine. Part of it was the weakness and shakiness of L's hands now, but usually, he was clumsy at this sort of thing. His arms were already bruised from failed attempts of his own when he couldn't find a doctor, but Jenny still managed to find a vein. The needle prick hardly registered; compared to the pain of having a dirty shovel go into your side, it was nothing. He exhaled slowly as Jenny pressed the plunger towards him. It was unclear whether he was allowing this because he trusted her, or because of complete, resigned apathy. Maybe a bit of both.

He noticed, immediately, that she didn't seem to be injecting herself. Even as his heartbeat slowed and his mind clouded drowsily, he thought that was a bit odd. Perhaps she was going to wait until after she'd read the poem. A thought occurred to him: he liked Jenny's company. He wondered if she'd be opposed to having a cot nearer to his. He turned his dark eyes, not yet so drugged that a poem's meaning would be lost on him, toward the young woman. "The morphine just makes it easier to listen. I'm certain that the quality requires no improvement."

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-25 10:24 am UTC (link)
Jenny had gotten pretty good at finding veins and injecting when she'd given Moira the testosterone shots for the transition she'd wanted to make. That was an ugly memory. The whole thing had turned into such a big mess that she had all but forgotten it until now. Here with L of all people. She did not want that part of her past creeping into what was happening here and she was grateful no one had decided to drop Moira into this place. She shuddered at the thought before turning her focus back to L once more, book in hand.

He looked sleepy and that was a good thing. Jenny smiled at him gently and brushed the back of his hand with her fingers, a gesture meant to soothe. "Thank you. But you haven't heard it yet."

Her smile widened a bit and she hoped he would be able to understand what she'd written. Her style was so odd and with morphine in his system he might be less apt to grasp what she was trying to convey. It didn't really matter though. He could read it later for himself when he was more coherent. She had every faith in the doctors saving him. He just could not die. She could not lose another friend.

"Okay," she said again and settled back a bit with both hands on the book. She cleared her throat softly and began, "Here goes:

it's a quietness unlike rest
with you
very like dreaming
simply the wonder of eyes into a soul
matchless & beautiful
with you
the tender beating of a kindred heart
soothing
shallows slipping into the depths
i know you, traveler
you've invited me
so i've dried the tears from my eyes
with lifesticky fingers
and i've written it in verse form
to represent the void and
the gilded inverted cage
where i, the canary,
sing a song of sixpence --
a pocketful of time
and raw existence -- here
when now is all and all could be so empty
loneliness breaks in waves
across desert planes of laughter dust
where once all was lush with ardency
i choose to remember none of this
when you walk beside
as we internalize the wonderment of faded stars
across an open sky
and i,
allowing the tendrils of moon promises
to encircle the frozen statue wearing my face
and bury it in sweet slumber,
kiss your mind and dream
until tomorrow's moon rises
over we two, my lovely
my brother
my heart"

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[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-25 11:21 am UTC (link)
L felt Jenny's fingertips under his skin before he felt them against it; the numbing effects of morphine on him were extremely odd, but it worked. Carefully, and without the precision he usually dedicated to his movements, he touched Jenny's hand, returning the gesture. His road had been dark, fearful, and lonely these past few days, beginning with his arrival here and worsening with Light's death. From there, the sequence of events had simply carried him along. He had left the liquor store early on Day 10, escaping the certain death that would have awaited him had he not fled from Laura's stillness that so reminded him of Light's. He had dug a perfect grave without clear intention, and it had actually saved him from being entirely crushed. He had exchanged that fate for the shovel, which had brought Jean to him, and Merope, and Gambit had appeared to keep Laura from getting to the gym in his hour of need. Everything had led up to this moment, in a way; if even one thing had gone diffrently, they would not be here having this conversation and realizing these things about each other, and for the first time, L allowed himself to be a little bit glad that things had happened this way. He smiled faintly, listening with hazy but full attention as Jenny read him a very beautiful poem.

It amazed L that, while the word "love" never technically appeared in the poem, the way the other words were arranged made it seem like it appeared, and often. It was uncanny, the way the words put images in L's thoughts... he and Jenny were more than a pair. Their souls were one. In every reality, in every new life and every reincarnation and alternate universe, they found each other.

They had been fox kits once, born in the same litter, sleeping curled around each other near their mother's side. Five thousand years ago, L had been a beggar watching a royal procession in Egypt, and he had never forgotten the woman he had seen from a distance, even though their eyes had only met for a moment. They had been droplets of water becoming one on a child's windowpane in Russia during a rainstorm. They had been dophins, a mated pair, dying together after an oil spill poisoned their blue world. They had been American soldiers, best friends, promising each other that they would live, and then both dying, one after the other, in the first wave on D-Day. They had been sisters in Germany, separated by the Holocaust, one dying in Auschwitz and the other in Buchenwald. They had been Japanese teenagers, giving each other their virginity when the Enola Gay passed over their city and ended the war and ended them. And that was only for starters.

"You found me..."

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-25 12:21 pm UTC (link)
Butterflies fluttered several times while she read those words to L. Something about them being read out loud felt extremely intimate. She'd written them herself and they hadn't affected her this way as they slid onto the paper from her fingertips. But now, reading them, it felt like making love. No, something even more intimate than that. Was there something more intimate than that? Yes, apparently that was what this was. It left her feeling a bit breathless and the last few words were barely a whisper caught in her throat.

When she looked up at L from the page, everything she'd said and done as the Insider seemed to evaporate into nothing. His expression was so strange though that she wasn't sure she hadn't given him too much morphine. That thought made her heart skip and quickly leaned toward him, the book falling away in a clatter on the floor. He spoke then and Jenny had no idea of what he'd relived. But perhaps that was what she'd felt as she read to him. Taking his hand in hers she kissed it and rested her cheek against it.

Deciding he must think she was Laura in his drug-induced serenity, she answered, "I did, yes." She could give him that. She could give him Laura if that was what he most wanted. "I love you, L," she said honestly. It was true. It wasn't enough to explain how she felt right now though. "Which is why you're not allowed to die, you hear me? I know what you wrote, what you keep writing. You can't. You understand me? You can't go."

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[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-25 12:56 pm UTC (link)
L could hear Jenny's voice changing as she read the words that made time and space relative. He could understand what was happening with unusual clarity, despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that his over-busy mind had been narcotically subdued. He had been on morphine enough now to know how it was supposed to feel, and this went beyond the usual drowsy highs and lows. It was profound, and Jenny knew it, too.

"I won't... I won't, because most living creatures die alone, even if they are surrounded by life. Especially if they are surrounded by life... and every path to death is different. I am often alone... but we're the same, because we have never, ever died alone. It doesn't matter if we're miles apart or as close as two people can possibly be. Whether we've been together from birth or only met for an instant, we've followed each other since the beginning of time in and out of life. We always find each other, Jenny... we don't live if the other is dead. So, I won't die... not until you do."

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-25 01:19 pm UTC (link)
In order to keep up the charade of being Laura for him she would have had to say she was already dead. Sometimes she felt that way. That was why she'd done so many of the drastic things in her past. She'd always been looking for that one person to complete her because she knew part of her was missing. Instinctively felt it in such a deep and sheltered place inside of her that she wasn't sure she could hear anymore of what he was saying. It was too much. Too special and meant for someone else. He should be telling Laura.

"Shhh, I'm not Laura, L. You should be telling her this. Wait for her and tell her. She needs to hear it. I know she does," she said, her voice catching in her throat again. Her heart ached. Ached for lovers who couldn't be together. For him in his pain. She felt responsible somehow even though she knew she wasn't.

Something profound had happened for Jenny. An epiphany of some sort. But why could it not have happened when she was here in this hell hole? When L wasn't floating away from her on morphine toward a daydream of his lover. It would have been so much easier for her to handle what she had learned about herself; what she was feeling. Whatever that was. She couldn't describe it but she knew she desperately didn't want it to end. For the first time in her life she felt like she belonged somewhere. Right there with L. Even if he wasn't feeling it too, she wasn't leaving him.

Tears slid down her cheeks unchecked onto his hand pressed there to her face. She hated the fact that she cried so easily right then. She didn't want to cry because that felt like giving up on him. Like she was mourning him and he wasn't gone. Not yet. Neither was she. She thought of the second needle in her pocket and what her plan had been. And she would have left a note on the writing book that it was to belong to him. Except now all she wanted to do was write more for him. For herself to figure out just what the hell it was that had snapped inside her and let the flood gates of this strange, huge emotion open.

"You're not dying. She's not dying, I promise. I'll do whatever I have to find her Norn water. I'll get Laura what she needs. You can't die, L. I'm serious. If you die I'm coming after you - even if I have to go to hell to do it. I'll yank you back. I'm not kidding." She was adamant, her eyes intent on his face now. There would be no dying today if she could help it.

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[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-25 01:41 pm UTC (link)
"I love Laura," L sighed quietly. "But I don't know... maybe she doesn't love me. She has a thing for... for Gambit, that man... she was with him after the earthquake. While I was here... I don't know where she is now, but I should tell her, shouldn't I... she needs to know, even if I can't find her what she needs... or bring her back to life, she is so good to me. I want her to be happy, and to be alive and have children, because I know she has always wanted that. But, I know you're not Laura, Jenny," he said, eyes half-closed, but with earnestness in his voice. "We're both still alive. We protect each other by staying alive, so... so we can't die. That's how it is."

He was deeply touched, even through the numbing cloud of morphine he perceived the world through, when Jenny said that she would do everything that could be done for Laura. it was a wonderful prospect, to think that his lover would be cared for. But he clung to Jenny's hand, knowing that she couldn't go out to the drug store as she was. The fumes, from the spilled alcohol, drugs, and formaldehyde, were extremely dangerous. He could send Gambit into that mess, but not Jenny, as much for his own sake as hers. "Don't cry. We're not going to Hell. We'll see tomorrow, and take care of ourselves and each other. It'll be all right." that's what the morphine was telling him, at least.

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-25 03:27 pm UTC (link)
"She loves you. How could she not love you?" The idea didn't seem possible. Not with the way she was feeling about him herself right now. Even if Laura maybe didn't love him romantically - she couldn't fathom that either or the whole idea that maybe Laura was falling for Remy - Laura couldn't not love L. "Rem - Gambit is just a charmer. He's either a big flirt or just a johnny come lately. She's stupid if she falls for that when she has you."

Jenny had been so sure that he wasn't talking to or about her that she had never heard him say her name even though he had. It took a minute for that to sink in. He was talking about her? Her brows furrowed slightly and she looked confusedly at him. "L, what are you talking about?" she asked quietly. "What did you mean when you said we always find each other? That you won't die until I do?"

She'd only touched on the surface of reincarnation and past lives when doing research. It had never occurred to her that it might be real. It still wasn't. She was completely bewildered by what he had said and concerned again that maybe she'd overdosed him. It wasn't like she'd known the proper dosage to give him. Suddenly that seemed so reckless and she wished she could turn back the clock to do it over.

When his hand tightened around hers, Jenny felt simultaneously the desire to turn around, run away, and the desire to climb onto the cot beside him. She wanted to hide from him. She wanted to be close to him. "Okay, okay," she murmured over and over to him even as she continued to cry, frozen in place by indecision. She was terrified that when he came out of the morphine haze he would remember that he was supposed to hate her. "I'm sorry," she whispered almost inaudibly.

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[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-25 04:11 pm UTC (link)
It was such a complicated situation, with Laura and Gambit. Laura had said that it was in her nature, to flirt with men, and Gambit certainly qualified. Still, it made him feel better. It comforted him to hear that Laura loved him, and that he was superior, in some way at least, to the man he was worried about. He knew that Laura wasn't stupid... she'd come back to him, and it would be all right.

"We find each other. Two halves..." he murmered. He was starting to slip now, but his thoughts were still coherent. Jenny had not overdosed him. "I remember you. We've known each other for a long time. We never die alone. Even if we're miles apart." he shook his head, frustrated, wishing that it could make as much sense to Jenny as it did to him. It was a bond stronger than love and family and friendship. It was fate, destiny, written.

"Don't be sorry. This is a wonderful thing. We're not alone. Love and death are two stories we share."

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-25 04:30 pm UTC (link)
Jenny scooted closer to the cot so that her legs were beneath it and her chest was right against his arm. Under normal circumstances she wouldn't get that close to a man but she was sure that he wouldn't take it the wrong way or even perhaps feel her closeness if he was near sleep. She let go of his hand in favor of very carefully resting her cheek against his arm, making sure not to touch his wound in any way. It somehow felt right. Strange but right to be close. And it stemmed from more than just her need to be held, reassured, loved.

"Two halves?" she whispered, not looking up at his face but closing her eyes. Yes, that was what she'd felt. It made sense to her now. This was right because they were supposed to be close. She believed what he was saying. The things he was infering made sense to her too. They'd known each other in past lives. They'd found each other.

She wondered if the people behind this insane glass prison would have put them here together if they'd known about this. A pang of fear struck her. After all the deaths there was no way to say there wouldn't be more. What better way to torture people than to use a bond like this to do it? She caught his arm between hers and fairly clung to it then.

"No, we're not alone and I'm not letting anything happen to you. Or me," she said in as reassuring a tone as she could muster. The tears had stopped flowing and she was glad for that. There was a peace settling over her though the more she was this close to him. She hoped he didn't mind the parasite on his arm because she wasn't going anywhere soon unless he asked her to.

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[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-25 04:55 pm UTC (link)
Jenny had little to worry about, when it came to contact and closeness with the almost-sleeping detective. The feeling of peace and safety was mutual, and as far as he was concerned, nothing could be more natural than their proximity to each other. There was no wrong way to take it.

Had L been conscious enough to think of it, he would be fretting about the new danger they faced. If they completed each other on a spiritual level, it was probably safe to say that one wouldn't live long without the other, if they even survived at all. They shared a soul between them, and that meant that there were many new ways to hurt both of them if a person cared to exploit it.

Stay with me. The request was unspoken, but almost certainly understood. This was what two borderline-suicidal, deep individuals needed: a part of themselves to banish the self-hatred they felt, to protect, binding self-preservation and altruism.

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[info]dont_f_withme
2009-06-26 09:19 pm UTC (link)
Jenny wasn't sure what to make of all of this. Not entirely. What she felt and what she knew seemed to be warring against each other. Her lack of ability to define what she felt about L now left her feeling unsettled. The fear that it would be exploited to harm them was even worse. Still, she was exhausted and in her turmoil, being close to him was the most solace she could claim right now. Wasn't it?

Her cheek rested against his arm and she could hear his heart. It was a slow, lovely sound and she wanted to join it. The peaceful, susurration of his life so close and warm. Jenny lifted her head as he seemed to drift. She wasn't sure if he was aware of her now or not as she reached into her pocket for the syringe. She made quick work of filling the syringe from the bottle of morphine. The prick of the needle was so minimal that she barely gasped. Then she thought of the reports of people who had been taken for an experiment. Someone had mentioned being underground.

She withdrew the needle before she could press the plunger. She couldn't leave them down there if she had a change to do something. With so many deaths in such a short amount of time, who knew which of those taken for experimentation would also die. If not all of them.

Brushing a kiss to L's cheek, Jenny struggled to her feet. "I'm sorry, dearest one. I have to go but I promise I will be back. And if I'm not, I am so sorry. I love you. I will find you again." Soundlessly then she turned to leave, hobbling on her makeshift crutches toward the back room where the trap door to the tunnel was secreted.

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