Title: Dragonfly
Chapter Title: Lacrimae
Author: A Navy Brat
E-mail: catnmouse90637@yahoo.com
Part: 2 of 3
Rating: R for language and sexual content
Warnings: For those who have not watched Jon Quest: The Real Adventures, the story may be confusing. For those who are looking for a hopelessly romantic J&J piece, this is not one. This chapter also deals with the subject of attempted rape; it is intended for a mature audience.
Summary: Jon and Jessie finally get to spend some time together after several years apart; then a series of events take place that make both of them wonder if they really are "just best friends."
Disclaimer All characters in this piece are owned by and copyrighted to Hanna-Barbera and whoever took part in the creation of Jon Quest: The Real Adventures. This is an original piece that does not intend to infringe upon their copyright and is strictly a non-profit endeavour. All characters and lyrics are used without permission. Characters and stories are in no way affiliated with, approved of or endorsed by Hanna-Barbera. All other materials copyright by A Navy Brat, 2001. All rights reserved. If you wish to post this piece at some other website, please inform me first at the e-mail address given above. Constructive criticism and reviews are appreciated. Personal criticisms should be sent to the address above. Thank you.
Author's Notes: "Lacrimae" means "Tears" in Latin.
My thanks to: Jason and Peter, without whom this fic would have died a slow and painful death because of lack of information.
Dragonfly
Chapter 2: Lacrimae
By A Navy Brat, April 2, 2002
"Paul, get off me! No! Stop it!" Jessie sent a hard right towards his jaw. She connected and he slumped back, dazed, which gave her the time she needed to scramble out of the car. She had activated the warning on her watch four minutes ago. Which meant she had another two minutes to wait until Jon and her father and hopefully the police arrived. Why the hell had she not listened to her gut feeling telling her not to go with Paul tonight? Why the hell had she not listened to Jon's warnings?
Jessie spun her attention back to Paul; he had just tumbled out of the car. He staggered to his feet just as Jessie began backing away. She gave him a hard chop to the back of the head. He slumped forward and she ensured his state of unconsciousness by kneeing him in the face. The alcohol must have dulled the pain because he was still conscious, and now infuriated.
Before Jessie could react, Paul had pulled a gun out of his waistband and pulled off a shot. Jessie ducked and the bullet ripped cleanly through her left shoulder, embedding in one of the trees behind her. She stayed crouched, shuddering in pain and chewing the inside of her cheek to keep from screaming. Just one more minute. She just had to survive one more minute…
She heard Paul's footsteps falling near her, his breathing heavy from the fight, the steady drip of blood from her shoulder onto the multicoloured autumn leaves. Thirty more seconds. Jessie risked a quick glance through her tangled hair and saw that Paul had lowered the gun and it hung loosely in his right hand. Bend down, you bastard, so I can get a clean kick at that gun she ground. Paul crouched down and lifted Jessie's face with his left hand. His glacier blue eyes bore into her.
He held the gun behind his back, well out of her kicking range. "What I want, I get, doll," he hissed, "and right now, I want you." He brought his mouth down hard on hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth and for the second time that night, Jessie wanted to vomit at the heavy stench of beer. She ticked off the remaining seconds in her head. Still no sound. Well, now she really had to improvise. But as long as Paul had that gun, her options were limited. Her left arm dangled uselessly at her side. Her movements were limited too.
He broke the kiss and he reached down to undo her jeans. He reached down to pull one leg off, then the other. Her undergarment followed. He kneaded the inside of her thigh with his free hand. His touch made Jessie shiver with disgust. "It'll be good to fuck you," he whispered luridly.
"Stop… please," Jessie's voice shook. Paul simply grinned meanly and began to undress himself. His right hand shifted slightly and as he rudely pulled at the zipper of his jeans, his hand dropped down to his side. He realized his cardinal mistake too late.
Jessie lashed out with her left leg, striking him in the wrist. The gun dropped to the ground. Paul swore at the pain and bent down to retrieve it. Jessie punched him hard across the temple, stunning him. She ran towards the woods as three police officers converged on Paul. Enraged, he began to struggle. Jessie was afraid he would break loose. Barely visible on her peripheral vision, she saw a blond and black smudge streak across the clearing and land in the fray. In seconds, it was all over.
Paul lay shackled, his nose still bleeding from the kneeing she had given him earlier, trussed up as pretty as a Christmas goose. Paramedics swarmed around her and as the adrenaline wore off, pain began to pulsate in her shoulder.
"You have the right to remain silent."
Her father's face.
"BP falling."
"Ponchita, Dad's here."
Jon, holding her hand, his voice thick.
"Jessie, you're gonna be okay."
"Smith and Wesson Model 3953TSW."
"Young man, I'm afraid we're going to have to ask you to move."
"Pulse 120."
"One round fired, one round in the chamber."
It hurts.
"Let's get her stabilised, people. Get her on the gurney."
The image before her blurred and she heard her father ask worriedly, "Is she going to be okay?" before she closed her eyes and faded into the black velvet.
Jon strained against his father and the two officers holding him. "Give me one damn good reason why I shouldn't go over there and rip that bastard's throat out," he growled, watching Paul getting loaded into the second ambulance. His father was about to answer when Race strode over. The red fury that had glazed Jon's eyes suddenly dissipated. "Jessie," he asked hurriedly, "how is she?" Dr. Quest relaxed his hold on his son's arm, as did the two officers, who exchanged unreadable glances with one another.
"The paramedics say the wound is clean, didn't hit a main artery or vein or any bone. We'll know more when we get to the hospital. I'm riding with her in the ambulance; they told you two to take the chopper."
Jon was already partway there before Race had finished the sentence and only slowed long enough to throw a "Hurry up, Pop!" over his shoulder before cush, cush-ing into the dark. Dr. Quest turned around only to find Race already jumping into the ambulance and pulling the door closed. He ran after his son, knowing that if he didn't make it into the copter within the next minute and a half, he would be left behind.
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"We'll need a statement after she's regained consciousness, Mr. Bannon," the detective informed Race politely.
"Yes," Race rubbed his face tiredly. "Yes, of course. I'll let you know when she's ready." The detective nodded in understanding and left them, bumping into the doctor on the way out.
The three men stood up. "Well Dr. Carter? How is she?" Dr. Quest asked.
"She'll be fine. There was only tissue damage, which will take about a month to six weeks to heal. We just want to keep her here for a day or two for observation, then she'll be released to you. She's already awake and asking for all three of you. I'm afraid you won't be able to stay for very long, though, because the painkillers will make her drowsy and rather hazy." Dr. Carter paused. "Also," he began rather hesitantly, "because of the situation, we would suggest running a rape kit on Jessica when she wakes up to determine if – "
Race sharply cut off Dr. Carter. "I will talk to my daughter about it. We'll get back to you."
Dr. Carter nodded. "All right. She's in room 324, the fourth room on the left."
The girl's father gave him a curt nod and a firm handshake before disappearing down the hallway. Dr. Quest followed his example. The young man lingered a bit after, giving him a grateful smile and a quiet "Thank you" before joining the two older men.
Dr. Carter shook his head. "You know, the two of you have something going for both of you. It's just that neither one of you know it yet," he said quietly.
Jessie focused on the ceiling tiles, trying to clear the last wisps of sleep from her mind. The room smelled like antiseptic. She glanced at her shoulder, now swathed in bandages. Her shoulder didn't hurt, which was a good thing. It must be the painkillers, Jessie thought. The bed was comfortable enough, she thought as she tried to use her good arm to lever herself higher in the bed, but it didn't change the fact that she hated hospitals.
"Jessie!" Her father rushed over. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to get up higher in the bed," she said. "My lower back is killing me." Race could see how she flinched when he reached for her and let his arms drop to his sides. She managed to scoot up higher into the bed.
Dr. Quest and Jon approached as Race stepped away. "How are you doing, Ponchita?"
"I'm a little sore but my arm doesn't hurt too much. Whatever painkiller they have me on, it on seems to be doing its trick." Jessie once again shifted, trying to get more comfortable. She grimaced as the move pulled on her injured shoulder but impatiently waved off both Jon's and Race's extended hands. "I can do this myself," she grumbled. Race retreated while Jon glanced at her worriedly.
"Jessica," Race began hesitantly, "the hospital wants to do a rape kit on you to determine if you were…" He choked on the next word. "…raped and to gather evidence if you were."
Jessie glanced quickly at her father before looking down again. "Daddy, I wasn't. But if it gathers evidence and would make you feel better, I'll do it."
Race decidedly looked more than a little uncomfortable as he continued. "The police are also asking for a statement from you about what happened tonight. Detective Bennett said he would be by later to see if you were ready."
Jessie's second fleeting look of well-repressed fear caused Jon to break in. "Can't it wait until morning at least? Let her rest up a bit and sleep. The detective can wait."
Dr. Quest nodded in apparent agreement. "Let her sleep, Race. She needs it," he gently urged.
Race relented, happy for the excuse to not push the issue. He bent down and kissed Jessie on the forehead, feeling how she forced herself to stay still. "I've already called your mother. She'll be flying up here from Colombia and should arrive by tomorrow. I've got a couple of loose ends to tie up, but I'll be back soon, okay?" Jessie nodded drowsily, the sedative and painkillers once again taking their toll. "Sleep well, Ponchita." He turned to go.
Dr. Quest moved beside the bed and smiled at Jessie. "You're a strong woman, Jessica. Sleep well." He too turned to leave.
Jon lingered by Jessie's bedside, moving to tuck an imaginary strand of hair behind her ear, letting his hand drop when he saw the suddenly wary look in Jessie's eyes. "Don't worry about me, Jon," she whispered. "I'll be fine."
Race and Dr. Quest stood in the doorway, waiting for him. She could sense his hesitation at rejoining them. "C'mon Jon, let's go," she heard Dr. Quest kindly say.
"I'll see you later, Jess," Jon quietly said. Then, with a last lingering look, he followed Race and Dr. Quest from the room. The serene and welcome darkness of sleep soon claimed her.
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She could feel him forcing himself down on her and a hardness that shouldn't be where it was and suddenly, great, indescribable pain radiated out from within her and she was powerless to stop it and a great overbearing blackness was crushing her, crushing her, crushing her until she couldn't breathe…
Jessie awoke from her nightmare. She blinked several times in the dim hospital lighting before straightening up in bed and reaching for the water glass next to her. The glass trembled in her hand and she swore under her breath when some of the water dribbled down her chin and onto her hospital gown. She scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand frustratedly and managed to sit up in bed well enough to swing her legs down. Grabbing the IV stand she slid out of bed and cautiously made her way to the bathroom in the dark, carefully avoiding jarring her arm. With her one good hand, she yanked the washcloth off of its ring and wet it, then ran it over her face.
Jessie lifted her somewhat damp face and looked at herself in the mirror. The yellowish light in the bathroom lent an eerie, sickly sallow hue to her face. When Paul had kissed her, he had bitten her lower lip and now bruises were visible under it. More bruises dotted along the side of her jaw where his hand had grabbed her. Her right cheek was turning purple where he had backhanded her. Her eyes were darkly rimmed and her skin pale from the blood loss. Tears began to well up as memories of the night before surfaced. Of him grabbing her, of him kissing her, his tongue invading her mouth, unbuttoning her jeans, watching the gun go off, the searing pain radiating through her shoulder, the sickening stench of beer…
"Get a grip Bannon," she muttered thickly as she angrily scrubbed her face again. She wrung out the cloth as best as she could before hanging it up and carefully made her way back to the bed. She clambered up and settled back and as she drifted off again, she hoped for no more nightmares, even as Paul's dark, menacing leer shaded the inside of her eyelids.
When Jessie awoke again, sunlight illuminated the curtains that had been drawn over the window next to her bed. The midmorning sun streaked lightly against the darkened wall, just like the headlights of the night before, when Paul had pushed her so roughly down on the car seats… She suddenly felt dizzy and had difficulty breathing. The images were washing back up like an angry tide. Paul, with the gun, undoing the button on her jeans, his hands fondling her, touching her in places that… With a tremendous gasp of air, Jessie shoved the memories away and drew great shuddering breaths.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why am I losing it like this? She ran her hand through her hair distractedly. I should be able to deal with this. Why am I not dealing? I should be stronger than this. It's not even as though anything actually happened. He never got past groping me. Nothing happened, damn it! She looked down at her shaking hands and willed them to be still. Her breathing began to slow.
The gentle creaking of an opening door started Jessie and she spun around to face it. Race poked his head in the room and smiled when he saw that Jessie was awake. The smile quickly faded when he saw her frightened expression. Race inwardly sighed. He had seen enough of spook life to know what had just happened. Flashback. He still had them sometimes and now Jessie would too because of that bastard Davin. Race put aside his thoughts and strode into the room, leaving the door open a crack behind him.
"Hi Ponchita. Did you sleep well last night?" Race settled down in the chair next to Jessie's bed.
"I guess." Jessie used her good arm to distractedly run a hand through her hair. "Where are Jonny and Dr. Quest?"
"Jonny's at the police station, being interviewed by the police. Dr. Quest should be coming by soon; he had something to finish up with at the Compound."
Jessie knew that they would be holding shifts at the hospital to make sure she wasn't left alone. "When is the hospital going to run the rape kit on me?"
Race shifted slightly in his chair before he answered. "They would like to do it as soon as possible to make sure that none of the evidence is lost."
"As soon as possible as in right now?"
"Pretty much. Although they'd be willing to wait –"
"They'd better do it now then."
Jessie heard her father slightly sigh as he got up out of his chair and disappeared from the room. She settled back into her bed, wincing when the move jostled her bad shoulder. The nurse came in shortly and led Jessie to an observation room.
"Hi, Jessica? I'm Dr. Lising. I will be performing the examination today." A petite, rather pretty, Asian woman strode into the room.
"Please, call me Jessie." Jessie was grateful that she made no attempt to shake her hand.
"Before we start the examination, Jessie, I want to go over what we're going to be doing and why we're doing it." Dr. Lising began to explain the procedure to Jessie. "We're going to start with a pelvic examination, followed by a vaginal examination. If there is any evidence of injury, we'll perform a vaginal and anal swab. We'll also be taking photographs of your various injuries as evidence." Dr. Lising explained the remainder of the procedure quickly and efficiently.
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An hour and a half later, Jessie returned to her room to be greeted by two strangers and a very irate Race.
"Jessie," Race began, "the police would like to interview you now. If you don't feel up to it though, you don't have to," he hurriedly added.
"That's okay, Dad. I'll talk to them now."
Race nodded and left the room.
The detectives introduced themselves to Jessie as William Bennett and Katharine Quinn and they settled down to begin the long questioning process.
"Miss Bannon, we know this is a very difficult time for you and we really appreciate that you are trying to help us. Some of the questions we will ask you will be extremely personal; we're not trying to pry or accuse you of anything. We're just here to gather the facts as objectively as possible. If you feel uncomfortable about answering any questions, or don't understand how a question is relevant, feel free to ask us any questions and we'll do our best to answer them." Detective Quinn's voice was soothing.
"Are you ready to start?" Detective Bennett quietly asked. Jessie nodded.
"Were you acquainted with your assailant?"
Jessie fought to keep her voice even. "Yes."
"So you had known Mr. Davin prior to the assault on you last night?"
"Yes."
"How long had you known each other?"
"About a month."
"Before the assault last night, had you ever had sexual intercourse with Mr. Davin?"
This time, Jessie could not hold back the tremor in her voice. "No."
"Jessica, we need you to –" Bennett began gently.
Jessie arched an eyebrow and shot Bennett a glance that silenced him. "No," she repeated emphatically. "I have never had sexual relations with anyone. I am a virgin. If you are not satisfied with my word, I have just undergone a vaginal exam with Dr. Lising. Ask her for my medical chart." Jessie caught the look that Quinn shot Bennett. Much to Jessie's relief, Bennett shut up.
"Has Mr. Davin ever attempted to have sexual intercourse with you?"
"He's suggested that we 'fool around' a couple of times. He's groped me and things like that, but never what he tried to do last night." Jessie made sure her voice was steady.
"You said 'things like that.' Things like what? Can you describe some of what he's done?"
"He would put his hand on my thigh even after I'd moved it away. He's grabbed my butt before… He would get really close when we were dancing so he could grab my chest. He would try to kiss me even after I told him to stop."
"So he sexually harassed you?"
"Yes."
"How long had the harassment gone on?"
"For about two weeks prior to the assault."
Each question was as probing as the previous and soon, Jessie answered them mechanically, wondering when the interrogation would end. Finally, the two detectives rose and said that they had enough information to file a report. They wished her a speedy recovery and informed her that they might be returning to gather more information for the DA's office. The detectives left.
Jessie had a difficult time trying to fall asleep that night and when she finally did sleep, she was plagued by dreams.
© A Navy Brat, 2002