Author: Ashantai
E-Mail: ashantai@hotmail.com
Archive: Please ask!
Pairings: Jondy/Zane, Krit/Syl
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None
Summary: Post-SAR; Jondy is devastated and Krit tries to help... but can he reach her before the depression destroys her?
Disclaimer: I don't own Dark Angel, wish I did, don't sue me please.
http://devoted.to/x5
LACRIMA AMARE - Chapter 1
Dead. Zane was dead. Zane, with his red hair and big grins, the long talks they had into the night when he wouldn't go to sleep, the soft feel of his shoulder under her cheek, the way he'd tilt his head at her when she was feeling sad and make her smile. Zane. Dead.
The tap was leaking, had been leaking for days. She didn't care. Jondy lay on her bed, listening to the dripping sound coming from the adjoining bathroom. She wondered, Will it drip for so long that the whole room will fill with water and kill me? Zack would come to check on her, make sure she'd settled in alright, and there she'd be, with her face blue and cold and dead like Tinga's. Jondy thought about that, tried to cry for her sister, but couldn't.
It was funny. Sometimes she would cry for hours, and hate herself for it, and other times she'd try her hardest to squeeze just one tear out and it wouldn't come. Actually, it wasn't funny at all.
The phone rang; Jondy ignored it. The sun set; she ignored it. She laid there, not sleeping, not eating, not moving unless she had to. Time passed but had no meaning. On the sixth day she had a seizure and was incredibly lucky when she didn't die because she couldn't be bothered to get up for her pills. Some nights she'd suddenly sit up, grab a pad of paper, and write a eulogy for Zane to read at his funeral. She did that at least four times, but each time as soon as the sun rose she remembered in the ugly light of day that no body would be found, and that there would be no funeral. Each morning she tore up the night's work and flushed it down the toilet, hating herself for not remembering sooner. She wondered if she was insane, but didn't care.
One night she walked into the kitchen on shaky legs, picked up a steak knife, and drew it across her wrists. Blood beaded on her white skin, dripping down to make a lovely design on the shabby kitchen counter. She sliced it through her flesh several times, but each time made only scratches, nothing life-threatening. She hated herself for not being able to just push a little harder, so after a few hours of trying to do it and failing each time she hurled the knife against the wall in anger, where it stuck straight out from the drywall. It was still there.
On the twelfth day Jondy took a shower and washed her straw-like hair, standing in front of the mirror afterward naked, the hair dryer in hand. She could see her ribs sticking through her skin because she hadn't eaten in a week. It hadn't been a conscious attempt to starve herself- she'd simply not noticed.
She could remember how Zane used to roll his eyes at her every time she picked up the dryer because, though her blonde hair wasn't exceptionally long, it was thick and wavy, and was always a trial to dry. He would grin as she dried it meticulously, often spending so much time in front of the mirror that the fluorescent lights would start giving her a headache. He'd laugh at her for that in his cheerful way, and she'd giggle along with him. But now it didn't seem so funny anymore. Not without him.
Jondy lowered the dryer from her semi-wet hair and threw a towel around herself. She walked into the kitchen, rifling through the drawers. When she found what she was looking for she went back into the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror again. A pale, hollow face and red-rimmed eyes with black circles under them stared back at her. Jondy gathered her hair into a loose ponytail with her left hand and reached up with the other. A sparkle of something between insanity and delight passed through her eyes as she watched the lopped-off ponytail hit the linoleum floor, the scissors shining against her scalp. She cut and cut until the hair was relatively even on every side and not longer than an inch anywhere. Gazing at herself in the mirror, she grinned for the first time in days.
Then she collapsed onto the bathroom floor and sobbed.