Title: Sleeping With Ghosts
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Janine/Simon
Characters: Janine de Luca, Simon Lauchlan, Sam Yao, Jody Marsh
Warnings: Spoilers for the second half of Season 2 (vague spoilers for one particular plot line)
Summary: A betrayal unmasked. Abel begins to pick up the pieces and sort through the debris
They bury his body inside the walls. That's something that Janine insists upon, even if she appears otherwise unmoved by the events of the last few days. There are security breaches to mend after his treachery, new rules to be put into place, plans to create because she doubts that Van Ark will take his loss of informant lightly.
She cannot, will not, allow Abel to fall a second time. It would make his fear and his death and the blood on the ground of the quad utterly pointless.
Janine lies in bed that night, alone, and for the first time since the apocalypse, wonders whether it is all futile.
Simon's things sit in a box on the kitchen table. His bunk has already been turned over to someone else. She's sure that the new Runner Three will appreciate it. But the box, what personal effects which were not of immediate use to anyone else in the Township, just sits there, slowly gathering dust.
She's a busy woman after all. Going through what probably amounts to junk is not high on her list of priorities.
It's a week later, perhaps, when sleep doesn't come and she's finished every useful task that she can think of, and a few more that certainly don't need doing the middle of the night. It's the box that catches her attention now. Simon's box, the battered metal crate that's been on the table since they- since he-
No. He made his choices. They did what they had to.
"Foolish sentiment," she mutters to herself as she digs through the box of possessions. There's a battered wallet; a few useless bank notes screwed up inside along with the usual credit cards and coins and a couple of old concert tickets that she slides back inside. The money is just so much kindling these days, but the tickets, well, there's no harm in them. Maybe they'll end up in a museum some day.
A somewhat scratched phone is next and it even switches on when she tries it to see if it's worth salvaging. For a moment, she just stares at the picture that he'd made his background.
It's her. Smiling at something off screen, hair in her face and it's obviously a candid. She doesn't remember him taking it, or even when he could have. It's something painfully personal, and she feels a little guilty even for seeing it.
She switches the phone off quickly and sets it aside. She has plenty of old mobile phones to disassemble at the moment anyway. No sense adding to her work.
There are a couple of plastic bags in there too and she pulls them out to look more closely. One of them is filled with wool in various bright colours, the other has a few chocolate bars, Curly Wurlys by the wrappers, and a set of Buffy DVDs. Each has a scrap of paper covered in Simon's distinctive scrawl. She swallows thickly upon seeing the names and yes, these she can pass on, although she isn't sure of their reception.
There are a few other trinkets. A couple of stuffed animals he must have intended to keep until birthdays or what passes for Christmas. A dog-eared copy of an Edgar Allen Poe anthology. House keys, a diary, a shopping list of all things, the minutiae of a daily life that can no longer exist. He'd never spoken much about the past, about life before the apocalypse and this, these reminders that he existed then are painfully human.
Damn him.
She almost misses the last little thing in there in her haste to shove those savage little reminders back inside. Lucky then that her fingers brush over it, a little velvet box, small enough to slip easily into a pocket on a run.
Her fingers close over it and when she opens it, another scrawled note falls out.
Jenny.
"You bastard," she hisses, staring at it for a long moment and it's late so of course her eyes are pricking with heat and soreness and more than anything she wishes that she could shake him, shaking him and demand to know why, why hadn't he told them, said something. Told her so that she could have helped him.
And it's all very well for him. He doesn't have to cope with the aftermath, just leaves her to go through a battered metal box of dead things.
The box snaps shut and she wants to hurl it across the room, but that would be ridiculous for something that she doesn't care about. "Letting the lack of sleep get to you," she murmurs, as she switches off the lamp and heads back upstairs, to a bed that is the perfect size for her and her alone and she doesn't imagine his lips at the back of her neck.
Night Jenny
Abel's children never find out where she'd got the toys from, but they love them nonetheless and Janine thinks that it's the first time that Amber has smiled since... well. It's best to move on, look to the future. That's what she's always said. Why linger on past mistakes?
But some require a more personal touch, even if she is hardly the person who should be doing this.
"Runner Four, Mr Yao," she says, poking her head into the rec room where the two of them are engaged in a game of some sort. They both look very very tired when they look at her, and very young. "Would you please accompany me. I need to speak with both of you.
They share a glance and then stand up, hands brushing for a moment before Sam takes hers, squeezing it. Janine doesn't wait for them, but heads quickly towards the farmhouse, confident that they will follow her.
They do. Of course they do, both of them quiet and subdued. She's noticed it in many people, shock mainly, but they're the worst. It is... understandable and she regrets that these two have been so unduly affected.
She waits until they're both seated at the scarred and heavy wooden table and then places the bags in front of them. "I found these amongst Mr Lauchlan's possessions. I believe that he would have wished for you to have them and I see no reason to deny you them."
"Janine..." Sam says warily, and Jody just looks pale and a little sick.
"He was a friend, for all that happened in the end," Janine replies tightly. "I know that we have not always seen eye to eye, but I am not so callous as to ignore that he meant something to both of you."
Sam nods and there's the rustle of plastic as they both open the gifts. Jody gasps softly at the sight of the wool and new needles, and it's easy to see her starting to well up with tears. She clutches the bag tightly to her chest, and Janine isn't sure if she's smiling or grimacing or perhaps they are the same thing.
"I-" Jody begins, her voice hoarse and raspy. "Thankyou," she says. "I need- I should-" She ducks a quick nod before bolting and they hear the door to the farmhouse shut.
Sam just stares at his gift, lips drawn into a tight line, eyes shadowed. "He didn't deserve this," he says quietly, looking up at Janine. "I know what he did was.. it was terrible, but he didn't deserve it. A public execution. What are we? Monsters?" His voice is quiet and intense and Janine fights back the urge to either snap at him or run herself.
"We do what we have to," she says firmly, impressed by how little emotion her voice holds. "Desperate times, Mr Yao. None of us would ever have been able to trust him again." And maybe for Simon that would have been worse.
Sam looks like he's about to object, but something must give him pause. Perhaps she isn't hiding it so well as she had thought. "He cared," Sam says, picking up his gift with something approaching reverence.
"I know," Janine replies softly, closing her eyes for a moment. "If we are done here..."
"Yeah," Sam replies, and turns away, only to pause in the doorway. "Nice ring. I've not seen you wearing jewellery before."
Janine's hand flies to the chair around her neck which she'd slipped the band onto. Rhodium plated, she thinks, as if that means anything anymore. "Ah yes. It was my- my grandmother's," she says. "I found it while cleaning and it seemed silly to let it go to waste. Everyone needs a reminder of those who were lost. Even me, Mr Yao."
It isn't even a good lie and she doubts very much that Sam is fooled. For all his antics, he is remarkably observant when he wants to be. He just smiles though, a small, sad expression, and nods. "Yeah. Reminders. Janine, take care of yourself, okay? We- we can't do this without you, so if you ever need-"
"I am quite self-sufficient, Mr Yao," she says firmly. "If I need anything, then I am certain that I can find it."
"Right, of course," Sam says. "I'll just-"
"Yes. You do have a job to do after all," is the wry response.
He gives another nod and then he's gone. Janine wraps her hand around the ring and draws herself up, spine straight and firm.
"That's quite enough silliness for one day," she says, rubbing at her face. She really needs to start using her full rest period, at least for a few days. She's obviously not getting enough sleep. "Quite enough."