Author's note: Why is this story so goddamned dreary? I just don't know. I wanted to pay homage to Joss Whedon's excellent "The Body" one of my top five episodes of Buffy. It was masterful, terrifying, and is an extremely realistic portrayal of loss. I love Anya. Come to think of it, this is my favorite episode, followed by "Once More With Feeling" and then "Hush". But don't say a word about what happens next because we're only about to end season six in my country. Oh yeah, I wanted to pay homage by putting in a little scene with Jill where she panics about what is right to eat for that kind of situation, but I found it to be too much like Willow's trepidation over her clothing, so I scrapped it.
Foamy: The chapter or the whole story? But if you meant the chapter, then yeah, I made it a dead giveaway when they started describing stuff.
Ksim: Glad to read that.
Linda: Thanks. How's that thing going with the site?
Frenchy: But I learned that Spirulina could really do wonders for your skin AND make you lose weight. Take that gold rush, hehe.
Melina: No problem. Is Brynhild your real name? Or did I just ask an extremely stupid question, because you have a beautiful screen name.
Tek: You can't get anymore poetic than that.
Chapter 6: "Epiphany"
Jill saw it coming a mile away, but she just couldn't accept it. A disease that was eradicated from her body years ago afflicted her little girl. It was virtually impossible. "That can't be right…" she stuttered, while Chris was just staring at Rebecca in silence. "Look again…look again… there must have been a mistake!" Jill tried, pointing at the microscope. "I'm sorry Jill, but it's there…" Rebecca tried to reason. "Well, you must've looked at the wrong thing, or, or the wrong blood sample…" Rebecca bit her lower lip, feeling horrid to be the one who had to tell it to them. Chris tried to soothe his wife, but it was to no avail. "She's wrong Chris…she, she must be…Becky, you have to look at that thing again, it must be a…" Jill shook her head, almost as if in doing so, the revelation would simply go away. "Becky…there's a way to stop it, right?" Chris asked as he let his wife rest onto him.
"…We…I'll find I way, the technology's gone past their times now, I'm sure that…I'm sure that we can find something." Rebecca replied, trying to comfort them, even at her own lack of surety.
"I thought that…when you treated Jill, you said it went away… right?" he then followed, prompting Jill to raise her head and look at Rebecca. It was the question that the doctor didn't want to hear.
"…Yes…yes I…I did." She replied with a heavy heart, with the sudden realization that it was her own lack of effectiveness that led them to where they were now. She felt like she betrayed her friends, and it ate away at her.
His hands trembled as he sat in front of the altar. Indeed, it was a long time since Mark had entered a house of worship, particularly his very own parish. The adoration chapel was like a sanctuary, a calm place that seemed to push away the cold hands of the rest of the world. It was a small, rectangular room, with the Sacred Host propped against the wall, emblazoned with carvings of flowers and angels around it. The afternoon sunlight peered in through the glass partitions from behind where Mark knelt. "God…I'm sorry if I haven't been here in a long time…it's just that, you know…Heart. She's hurt…real bad and I…don't know what's wrong with her…just please…God please make her better…I promise that I…won't eat meat when You say so…I'll stop jacking off just please…make her alright." There was a childlike quality that seeped out of the young man as he poured his heart out to the silence. He was sure that somebody was listening, even though he was alone, possibly the most foolish trait that there was for people who believe in something higher. Every man to his poison.
After constant reiterations of the same prayer, Mark finally genuflected, and wearily left the Chapel. Deep in his heart, he didn't know what good it would do for him to talk to a piece of bread standing on top of a golden tabernacle. To anyone else, it would be insane. The sunlight poured down on his face the moment he stepped out, giving him a sense of warmth that was over too quickly as the jubilant cries of children playing in the park just across the street came to his attention. He stood by the Church gates, watching everyone from afar. It didn't take too long before the sunlight began to irritate his eyes, and he had to raise his hand to shield them. Families, couples, young and old alike, walking about and basking in the light. They were all so distant to Mark, whose only motivation was dying in a hospital bed that very moment.
Rebecca looked closely at the pack of close blood cells, noticing something strange with the lymphocytes. They were shifting uncontrollably, most probably already being killed off by the virus. "The deterioration is too rapid…" as she watched on. "This isn't like Jill's strain, there's something different…but how? Could it be…it must be some sort of chemical reaction in Heart's system…" She backed away and rubbed her face, taking a deep breath as she did. It hurt her, the notion that this was all her fault. Maybe it was. If she looked deeper, perhaps she could have found the means to fully eradicate the unseen from her old friend's system. "This is my fault." She thought.
Mark crossed the street and found himself traversing the park. Everything seemed so festive, from the sunlight, to the children playing, he soon wished that he had Heart beside him. She would have been happy watching those children. With the thought of Heart in mind, the sounds of the children, the leaves and trees, all soon vanished. "Mark?" Heart asked, placing her hand on his shoulder. "What are you thinking of?" she followed, watching the children. "…You." He replied softly, smiling and giving her a kiss. "What was that for?" she asked him, somewhat surprised. "Just for being there." He closed his eyes and slammed the back of his head against a tree, not letting his imagination drift too far from reality. Caring as he was, he couldn't stand staying in that room with Jill and Chris, whom he feels has a new profound hatred for his lack of responsibility.
"Hey, Heart." Jill whispered to her little girl as she sat by her bed, holding her hand. She leaned in closer, gently kissing Heart's forehead. "I got you that bear you said you wanted…five years ago…uh, he's just by your side, just in case you want him." She said, referring to the stuffed toy that was half Heart's size. "How's the food here anyway? What are they feeding you? I can have them put in some steak if you want…" she said. "…Look…I'm sorry that I wasn't always there for you…and I…when all of this is over…I will make sure that every moment we share is something that you'd always treasure." She told Heart, in the brink of tears. Jill leaned back as to be able to sit upright, watching her little girl. It frustrated her, knowing that she couldn't help Heart fight these inner demons, no matter how hard she would try. That was always the problem when dealing with sickness; at most times, it isn't up to the observer, even with the aid of medicine, as the outcome seems to simply rely on the strength of the victim. Jill never loved the thought of being so helpless, not knowing what was going inside Heart's body and soul.
"Jill." Chris called as he entered the room, handing her a cup of coffee.
"…You okay? You haven't eaten…" he said, also referring to himself.
"…I have to look after her." Jill replied. "It's not like she's going anywhere." Chris thought, much to his own disgust.
"I'll watch over her, you go grab a bite." He offered.
"Is anything still open this hour?"
"Honey, everything opened five hours ago."
"Oh. That's nice."
"…"
"Do they still have McDip? It's been awhile since I last got fast food…"
"I think it's in six flavors…I think."
"What's her favorite flavor?" Jill asked, referring to Heart.
"Uh…butterscotch. She goes crazy for them."
"…See, I didn't know that."
"…"
"Chris? What kind of mother am I, if I don't even know my only daughter's favorite ice cream?" she asked him sadly, almost squealing as she did. "I don't know my only child…" Chris' face faltered as he immediately wrapped his wife in a hug, giving her more freedom to let out her tears.
"…You know, I remember when you were the laid on the bed. I panicked like hell the moment I saw you." Chris said, reminiscing their survival days. "You were in such a bad shape that I broke down in front of everyone. Some fearless leader, huh?" he joked, peering into his wife's eyes.
"…"
"I know that Heart is going to make it, just like you made it. She's stronger, she's smarter, she's…definitely louder than both of us, and we should know well enough that she just won't take Nemesis lying down."
"…She's lying down right now."
"Nevertheless."
"…"
"We vowed that we would never let Umbrella get to, and this is their last chance at getting that done… even if they don't exist anymore. Believe in her. She's a survivor, just like you and me."
"…"
Mark unlocked the door of his home and entered, shutting out the light and sounds of the outside world as he pushed the door to a close. "Grandma, I'm back." He said, with no particular effort at actually being heard. Mark immediately went up to his room, removing his wallet and cell phone from his pants, and then taking off his shirt before he fell down on the bed. His eyes wandered to the wall where he pinned the pictures that Heart drew for him. "Mark?" asked the elderly woman as she came into his room. "Grandma, you shouldn't be walking!" the young man suddenly cried, jumping to his feet and helping his grandmother sit on his bed. "I still have some strength in these old bones of mine." She defended with a simple smile, something she has been known for. The old woman was hunched and stout, with her eyes only partially open, and her long white hair tied back. She wore a long white gown that covered her entire body, almost making her ghostlike in appearance. For a woman of her age, she had an awful lot of strength left in her.
"But still, you should be resting." He said, getting a seat in front of his grandmother.
"…Mark, I don't plan on shutting myself off of this world when there is only so little time I actually have left in It." She told him with a resolved smile.
"Don't say that."
"And what about you? You changed…overnight."
"People don't change overnight."
"Not when it's the heart that's going through the motions. I may be old, but my senses are still sharp."
"…Heart's in the hospital."
"Are going figurative on me?"
"No, I mean Heart, as in my girlfriend. She's in the hospital, because I was stupid enough to leave her when I should have stayed with her until I knew she would be safe from herself."
"How is she now?"
"…I don't know. She's not conscious."
"Oh. Is that why you've become a miserable mute all of a sudden?"
"Excuse me?"
"Mark…the one thing I learned when something as troubling as this happens…is that just because they aren't conscious doesn't mean that they aren't there. If she's in the brink of losing right now, then live and be strong for both you… and her."
"…What did you do when mom and dad died?" he asked her.
"I cried."
"Then maybe that's what I should do."
"She isn't dead yet."
Mark headed for the hospital, carrying a bouquet of roses in his hand. He wore a loose, long sleeved green shirt and a pair of drawstring pants. Sometime ago, he thought that a pack of flowers or some teddy bear wouldn't matter to someone who was unconscious. It was only when it happened to Heart that he knew how much the simplest things were needed. It wasn't only for her, it was also for her family, her friends, to know how much sentiment there is in the cold world. True warmth is difficult to find.
Rebecca studied the sample over and over again, shocked to realize the component that triggered the virus. She took out the blood sample and placed the slide on top of her clipboard. Such a small thing, holding as much perplexities as it did answers. Now, she knew the reason why the virus came to be, unfortunately, she still didn't know how to counteract it. "…So that's it. It's so simple…it was because of ecstasy." She thought to herself as she stood up, running a hand through her hair. "She took ecstasy."
Author's note: I really didn't want much dialogue in this one because problems as big as potentially losing(or indeed losing) somebody would be met with silence and guilt… but the words just came out. I hate it when that happens. And I didn't mean anything much to what I said about Faith being poison, it's just a general view that people have, and I had to put it there to reference the doubt going through the characters' minds. Oh my! Heart took drugs? IS that her secret? That's bad and wrong, you should never do that, even if you're preppy and in dire need to show off. So hey, till next time.