Please check out my X5 website- http://devoted.to/x5
A/N: Pretty much all my fanfics take place in the same universe and this chapter hints at my story "Children of a Broken World - A Long Way to Eden" (and also at "Chaleur," but that's not very important). You might want to read "A Long Way to Eden" if you haven't. It's not very long at all. http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=496938
LACRIMA AMARE - Chapter 8
Zane followed Jondy wordlessly through the kitchen and outside into the backyard, up a big oak tree near the fence, feeling almost like he was chasing after an apparition that would soon disappear. She stopped halfway to the top when the branches started to get thin and looked down at him expectantly; he swung himself up beside her, sat where the two boughs crossed. He reached for her.
"Jondy," he said. She didn't move for a moment, just gazed at his outstretched hands as though they were the limbs of some foreign creature. Then she hesitated once more before sliding over beside him and allowing him to slip an arm around her shoulder.
"Zane," she said, sighing the word against his chest, curling her hands against his jacket like a small child. He could feel her shaking but it wasn't from a seizure.
"Hmm?" he asked.
"Tell me."
"What?"
"Everything," she said softly. He obliged her.
"After Zack sent me to California I couldn't deal," he said softly. "I thought I'd lost you- it was so hard, Jondy. I didn't know what to do. On the third day I caught my foot on the living room carpet and fell onto the floor. I barely got up for days. I just laid there." He stopped, tightened a hand around her tensed shoulder, rubbed it soothingly. "Anyway, it doesn't matter now." She pulled back from him, looked up into his dark eyes. He touched her soft blonde hair. "You cut it."
"Yes," she said. He stroked the backs of his fingers against her cheek, gazing at her sadly.
"I'm so sorry," he breathed. Jondy's face twisted and she shook her head.
"It's not your fault. You believed him and so did I." Zane took her hand, squeezed it. She laid her head on his chest again.
"Anyway," he said again. "It doesn't matter now. We're together." She felt his soft fingers clasped in hers and held on to them tightly, like a life line.
"Zane?" They looked out at the noon-day sun, bright and round in the blue sky.
"Yes?" His strong arms were safe around her.
"Did you miss me?" Her voice was small; for some reason she had to hear him say it.
"God, of course," he said. Jondy started crying.
"I hate that I believed him," she said in a tiny voice. Then, "I hate him." There was a short pause.
"It's over now," he said finally. He'd been so easy-going, always. At this moment she hated him for that, his ability to forgive, to forget. Sure, he'd laid on the floor for days, but had he tried to kill himself? Had he almost murdered a tiny life within him just because... she shook the thought away as he added softly, "You don't hate him and that's okay." He rubbed a hand over her back as she let out a long shaky sigh, knowing he was right.
"I want to," she said, her voice bitter.
"I know," he agreed heavily. Maybe he did understand. Jondy smiled.
"Zane?" She suddenly felt more peaceful than she had in months.
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry."
"Me too." Gentle. "I love you." She could hear it in his voice, knew it was true; she could hear his happiness at seeing her again, buried beneath his worry for her. She nodded against his chest.
"I love you, too."
"Jondy," he said, his voice hesitant, almost afraid. "I'm in love with you." She pulled back from him, gazed up at his face, wanting to tell him she was in love with him too because she was, but something was pushing at the back of her mind, something she'd been struggling with for months, a nagging feeling that had started long before Zack had split them up or even found out they were living together, back when they still thought he was dead. She hesitated before taking a huge breath.
"Zane..." She couldn't stop the fear from entering her voice. "Are you my brother?" There was a long pause and his face fell slightly. Obviously that hadn't been the response he'd been hoping for.
"I don't know," he said honestly, and sighed, long and loud and hard. His voice was strained. "Maybe," he said finally. "Does it matter?"
"Sometimes," she whispered.
"Yeah," he agreed, heavy. "Yeah."
"Zane?"
"Yes?"
"I'm in love with you, too." She felt him relax immediately and he kissed the top of her head gently, tightening his arms around her.
"I know," he said. "Don't worry, Jondy." Birds were perched on the roof of the house next door.
"Will you stay here with me for a while?"
"I'm not going anywhere."
"I've missed you." Tears stung her eyes and her voice shook. She could barely form the words through the lump in her throat. "I've missed you so much."
"It's going to be okay," he said softly, trying to convince both of them as he stroked her hair. The feathers of the birds' folded wings fluttered in the breeze. There was a long pause; she pulled back and his dark brown eyes were immediately glued to her blue ones. She felt like he could see right through her. She was terrified that he would disappear any moment.
"No one could make me leave again," he said gently, reading her thoughts; he knew her so well still. "I'm staying right here." Jondy nodded, then her hand dropped lightly to her stomach and she frowned. He doesn't know everything. She blinked against the tears stinging her eyes and laid her head on his chest once more.
Syl hung in the doorway of the bedroom. Krit sat down tentatively on the
end of Jondy's bed and gave her a questioning look. Then he realized.
"Oh," he said. "Well, this is private. I didn't mean-" She forced a smile, raised a hand to stop him.
"I know," she said. She took a tentative seat on the chair beside the bed.
"Syl?" he asked. "What's wrong?" She looked at him, her dark eyes hesitant.
"It wasn't- I didn't plan on it."
"Plan on it," he repeated blankly.
"Kissing you," she explained. "During that mission. You were- you almost-" She sighed, frustrated. "We were over such a long time ago."
"Over," he said weakly. "Right."
"We were."
"I know."
"But now..."
"Now," he repeated, trying to be helpful. "Now... what?"
"Now I don't know." She stood up and walked to the window, hugged her arms around her shoulders, turned back to him. "You know how I feel," she said.
"Too much," he answered, quoting her from the night they'd officially broken up almost two years before. "Too confusing."
"Too confusing," she agreed. She sat down again.
"But now?" he asked.
"Now it's different."
"Right," he said. "Of course. Different in a good way?"
"Maybe." Her hand came up, touched his cheek. She was studying his face, looking for something. He let her. Finally she dropped her hand, sighed, didn't find it. "Maybe," she said again.
"Syl." He took her hand in his. "We had something good."
"I know." She pulled away. "It was too much, though." He sighed.
"Yeah," he said. Secretly he thought they'd had something salvageable, but once Syl decided something she didn't go back on that decision. And she'd decided that a relationship based on relieving her heat cycles wasn't really a healthy one. He been able to see her point, of course, agreed with her on that, but he'd always assumed that the two of them would have evolved from a relationship of casual sex every three or four months into something more meaningful.
But Syl got scared. She got scared a lot about sex and romance, nothing really else. She was ultra-brave about everything but that. Krit didn't know why; he'd never asked because he'd sensed she didn't want to talk about it. Zack had been involved, he knew, from something she'd said on a sunny morning in June four years before, the only time she'd ever said anything about it.
"Why do you always listen to Zack?" he'd asked her then. "I mean, you
never even protest. You should at least protest. I know he pisses you off as
much as the rest of us sometimes." She smiled at him, her soft hands drawing
patterns on his arm, over his chest. When she answered her voice was low with a
dark memory.
"You have no idea how much I owe Zack," she said. "He helped me once, a long time ago. I was in a bad situation."
"He's helped all of us," Krit said, dropping a kiss to her bare shoulder.
"Not like that," was all she'd say.
"Don't cry." He reached up, brushed a tear away. She smiled at him.
"Anyway," she said. "That was a long time ago."
"Are you listening to me?" Syl asked, startling him out of his reverie.
"Oh... no," he stammered. "What?" She smiled, rolled her eyes.
"I said that I thought, maybe, we still have... something." He grinned at her when she said that.
"We'll always have something, Syl."
"Yeah," she said, hesitant. "Maybe." His hand came up, soft against her cheek. He leaned forward, touched his lips against hers. She sat there, tentatively brought a hand up against his face, but when he tried to deepen the kiss she turned her head away suddenly. There were tears in her eyes.
"Sorry," he said, alarmed. "I thought-"
"No, no, I'm happy," she interrupted, smiled. "The mission- When you almost-" She broke off. "Well, it was emotional, and I felt... stupid. I wasn't sure if you still felt the same-" Krit leaned down and silenced her with another kiss; this time instead of pushing him away she smiled into his lips, threading her arms around his back. All the tension and uncertainty and love they still had for each other poured out between them. Finally and reluctantly they broke apart to breathe.
"We had something good," he repeated his earlier words.
"We'll always have something," she agreed. Then she smiled, put her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder. He touched her back lightly, content just to hold her close. He'd been waiting almost two years for this moment.
"This was definitely worth getting shot nine times," he whispered into her hair. She laughed, happy and free and melodic. Krit breathed in her vanilla shampoo and smiled.
"Krit?" Jondy's tearful voice came from the doorway suddenly, hesitant. He released Syl and stood up quickly, too worried to be disappointed about having to let her go.
"What's wrong?" Syl asked, standing more slowly. Krit walked over to Jondy, touched her shoulder; she fell into his arms and sobbed, low hiccuping sounds.
"What?" Krit asked softly. "What is it?"
"I... told Zane..." she said between tears. "About... the baby."
"Baby?" Syl's voice came, her eyes wide with surprise. Krit looked at her, nodded, tried to comprehend what Jondy was sobbing out. He couldn't understand; he knew Zane. Zane who loved children, who loved the idea of having children, who loved Jondy, for God's sake. What the hell was wrong with him?
"What happened?" he asked.
"He left," Jondy said. "He said he had to go somewhere and think, and then he left. He looked really angry."
"Zane," Krit growled. "I'm going to kill-"
"Wait, wait, wait," Syl cut in, glaring at him. Jondy was still crying into his shoulder, soaking his shirt. He didn't care. Syl touched her sister's hair.
"You should sleep," she said. "You look exhausted."
"I sleep too much." Her voice was bitter.
"Making up for your childhood, no doubt," Syl said, soothingly, keeping her voice light. Krit looked at her and for the first time realized that she would make a good mother. He shook that thought away almost as soon as it came- he'd only just gotten her to kiss him again. Slow down, his internal voice berated, disgusted with himself.
"At least lie down," Krit said. "Stress isn't good for the baby."
"Who cares?" Jondy asked, her voice terribly forlorn. "He doesn't want it anyway."
"Jondy..." he started, but he didn't know what else to say. She reminded him of a child who'd fallen into a hole, climbing up slowly and then finally almost making it to out, only to be kicked down again by someone standing at the top. First that someone had been Zack, and now it was Zane who'd beat her down. Krit had explained how she felt, that she was suicidal. What the hell was wrong with him? He walked with Jondy over to her bed, made her lie down. Syl hung back as he pulled the blankets over her fully-clothed form, shoes and all. He pulled those off and touched her hair; her hand came up against his cheek.
"Sleep," he said. She gazed up at him, her lids already fluttering, her tears still flowing steadily.
"Thanks," she said. He nodded and went back to Syl; they headed downstairs, not speaking, until she turned to him in the living room.
"Sorry about that," he started. "She gets-"
"Be careful," she interrupted, catching him off-guard.
"What?"
"She's messed up, Krit. Just be careful." His eyes darkened at the implication in her words.
"She's my sister," he said, low.
"So am I." That made him hesitate; his anger fell away.
"Syl..."
"I don't know what I was thinking," she said suddenly, turning toward the door.
"Jondy-"
"Dammit, this isn't about Jondy," she snapped. "You're my brother, Krit!"
"No I'm not!" he yelled.
"Are you hers?" she asked evenly; he opened his mouth, closed it, glanced away. She shook her head. "How does that work?"
"I don't know," he said. "I don't know." He took her hand. "Please don't throw this away. We can really have something if we try."
"I'm going back to California as soon as we've knocked some sense into Zane," she said, extracting her hand from his. "And you'll be going back to Montana."
"That never stopped us before," he said, smiling, trying to lighten the mood. "I seem to recall a certain someone driving twenty hours just to spend the night with me." It was the wrong thing to say. Her face crumpled slightly, then she forced it back together.
"That's not how I wanted it to be," she whispered. "You were-"
"That's a lie," he said, a little more harshly than he'd intended. "When you were with me you said you'd never felt so content with... it." For some reason he couldn't say 'your heat.' It sounded rude, callous. "You said when it was a stranger you felt disgusting." She hesitated.
"Yeah."
"Well? Then what is all this 'that's not how I wanted it to be' crap?"
"I don't know," she said, turning away. Another lie. He grabbed her arm.
"Yes you do. Why the hell are you always so scared, Syl?"
"I'm not scared!" She wrenched herself away from him.
"Yes you are, this is the only thing you're scared of. Why?" She shrugged her shoulders, picked up one of Jondy's books. He swatted it out of her hands.
"Settle down," she snapped. "You have such a temper!" He forced himself to obey, knowing it was true, one of his weaknesses.
"Sorry," he said, and meant it. She shrugged again.
"Whatever."
"Dammit, Syl." He looked at the clock, sighed. "We have to find Zane."
"Fine," she said icily.
"Fine," he repeated, just as cold. They grabbed their jackets; Krit hesitated in the doorway.
"Wait, you'd better go yourself," he said. "Jondy's upset. I don't want to leave her alone."
"I'll stay," she said immediately. He narrowed his eyes at her.
"There's nothing between us, Syl."
"Go on, find Zane, you should be the one to talk to him anyway, you're a guy." She pushed him toward the door. "We'll be fine, we'll paint each other's toenails or something." She smiled but he didn't.
"Fine, but don't leave her alone," he said. She softened as she saw his worried expression.
"I won't," she said. "Don't worry." Then she raised a hand to his cheek and pulled him down for a kiss. It was her way of apologizing, he knew. Krit smiled at her. "Go find that idiot," she said.