InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "I'll never let go Jack !"

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

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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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