InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "That's not love. That's hate."

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
2009-06-24 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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