Rating: PG
Summary: Unusual circumstances force Joan and Adam to take a closer look at their relationship and at what ultimately stands between them.
Spoilers: Up to and including Requiem for a Third Grade Ashtray, I guess.
Genre: This one is shock full of angst, kids. Be warned!
Pairing: J/A angst, and a bit of I/A
Author's Note: As big of a J/A shipper as I am, I also adore angst. Don't get me wrong: I love fluff. You just won't find any here! Or not yet, at least…
Suggested soundtrack: Delicate, by Damien Rice; Ooh Child, by Beth Orton; Cannonball, by Damien Rice; Two Beds and a Coffee Machine, by Savage Garden; and Comfortable, by John Mayer
Joan Girardi knelt down, placing the bouquet of daisies at the foot of the headstone. She traced her fingers over the engraved name, biting her lip in an effort to prevent the tears that were blurring her vision.
"It's ok to cry, Joan," a familiar voice broke the silence.
"That's not very convincing coming from the person who let this happen," Joan heaved an exasperated sigh.
Rising to her feet, Joan brushed the dirt from her jeans and turned to face the young man who stood behind her. His face was soft, marked by his trademark smile.
"Joan," the young man started to argue, but Joan cut him off.
"Don't. Whatever you're going to say is just going to confuse me more."
The young man shoved his hands into the pockets of his tan jacket and tilted his head to the side slightly, watching Joan carefully.
"Why are you here, anyway?" Joan asked, irritated.
God's eyes flickered away from Joan's to watch a young couple entering the graveyard. Joan followed his gaze and rolled her eyes.
"Ugh, figures," Joan said, watching Adam and Iris walk hand in hand through the maze of headstones. The hood of Adam's hoodie was pulled up on his head, despite the afternoon sunshine.
"Come sit with me," God suggested.
"What?"
"That tree over there," the young man pointed to a weeping willow tree a few yards away, "offers very good shade."
Joan didn't bother asking why. She knew she would get an even more confusing response.
"Fine, but I can't stay long. I have to be home for dinner."
God simply nodded, holding the hanging branches to the side for Joan. The pair sat down and leaned against the strong trunk of the tree as the sun danced in dappled patterns across their faces.
On the other side of the cemetery, Iris laced her fingers with Adam's, admiring the way their fingers fit together.
"So why'd you bring me here, A?" she asked, glancing at her boyfriend.
Adam was quieter than usual, letting his feet guide him between the graves. He carried a bouquet of roses and a picnic basket in his free hand. He looked at Iris for a long time before answering.
"To have dinner with my mother."
To Iris, who had yet to be told the story of Adam's mother's death, Adam's answer was surprising, if not confusing. Others in Iris' position might say that it was morbid.
"A, I…" Iris didn't know how to reply.
"Look, I told you that you didn't have to come," Adam replied calmly.
"When you said you were going for a walk and having supper, how was I supposed to know that you were going to a graveyard?"
Adam had no answer, and he didn't protest when Iris pulled her hand from his.
"I'm going to go, ok?"
Adam just nodded, and didn't notice the couple watching him from the shadows of a weeping willow tree nearby.
Taking her eyes of the couple, Joan turned to God for an explanation.
"Death makes some people uncomfortable," God said after a long pause, keeping his eyes on Adam.
Joan remained silent as she watched Adam place the bouquet of roses on his mother's headstone and sit down with the picnic basket.
"Do you…" Joan paused, glancing at God again, waiting for reassurance. This time, God looked at her. "Do you think he wants some company?"
"He has enough food for two," the young man smiled.
Joan stood and made her way towards Adam.
"Joan!" God called out to Joan.
"Yes?" Joan turned to look at the young man, unaware that Adam had heard his call as well, and was watching the scene with interest.
God walked up to Joan, wiped the tears from her face with his thumbs, and smiled.
"This hurts him just as much as it hurts you, if not more," was all that He said.
"What does that mean? I don't understand!" Joan replied, but gave up quickly when God turned and walked away, offering a trademark wave instead of words.
Joan swallowed, and walked slowly across the grass towards Adam. Adam, however, was more interested in the young man who had turned and was walking the other way, towards the gates of the cemetery. He squinted slightly as the man got farther away, lingering at the edge of Adam's line of vision. Adam frowned in confusion, convinced that the young man had just disappeared into thin air, swept away by a gust of wind.
"Hi," Joan smiled down at Adam.
"Jane. Uh, what are you doing here?" Adam asked, squinting one last time at the gates of the cemetery before he focused on Joan.
"I was visiting Rocky's grave," Joan answered.
"Of course," Adam nodded, and paused. "Do you want a sandwich?"
Adam held up half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and looked up at Joan shyly. Her hair was tucked behind her ear on one side, and the rest fell into her face.
"Sure," Joan smiled and sat down next to her friend and took a bite of the proffered sandwich. "This is really good."
"It's just pb and j, yo," Adam replied, unable to stop the faint rosy blush that coloured his cheeks. Her smile was still incapacitating to him, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. He pulled his hood down onto his back.
"Well, it's good." Joan said, examining the sandwich with a satisfied smile.
There was a thick silence as the teenagers ate their sandwiches. It was not the uncomfortable silence of nervous kids with nothing to say, but was quite the opposite. All the words they had wanted to say - had been dying to say - were on the tips of their tongues, waiting to be set free.
"My mom and I used to eat these every day for lunch," Adam admitted between bites.
More silence as Adam handed Joan a juice box and a napkin.
"She used to pick me up at lunch, and we would walk home to eat." Adam paused, considering his next words. "One day she didn't show up."
Joan let Adam's words sink in, frowning as she struggled, yet again, not to cry.
"How often do you come here?" Joan asked, fighting with the plastic wrapper on
the straw of her juice box.
"Once a week, sometimes more," Adam replied, taking the straw from her and opening it with ease. He swallowed as his hand accidentally brushed hers, and he had to fight not to take her hand in his.
Joan found herself staring at Adam's hands as he pulled the straw from the wrapper, and handed it back to her. He had such beautiful, gentle hands. Joan remembered Adam's soft touch from when they had kissed, and his cautious fidgeting with the bandage on her foot. She had tried to ignore the spark that had shot through her on both those instances, and she tried – failing miserably, of course - to ignore it now.
"Adam," Joan said, "why does it always feel like we're holding things back when we're around each other?"
"Because we are, Jane," was Adam's effortless response. Joan frowned and fidgeted with her shoelace. This was not the answer she has expected.
"But why? Why can't we just say what we're thinking?"
"There're obstacles," Adam glanced back towards the gate of the cemetery. "There's fear, misunderstandings, obligations…and the guy you're always with."
Joan's eyes jolted up to meet Adam's briefly before she, too, looked towards the gate of the cemetery.
"Adam, we've been over this before. It's -"
"Complicated? Different? Not what I think it is?" Adam sighed. "What's your excuse going to be this time, Jane?" Adam gave Joan a pointed look, and she winced at the hostility in his voice.
"That guy," Joan took a deep breath, "is the reason for all of this." Joan said carefully.
A flurry of emotions flitted across Adam's face before he settled on confusion.
"You're going to have to give me more than that Jane."
"He's the reason I do all of the crazy things I do. The chess club, AP chem, cheerleading…smashing your art…" Joan let her voice trail off as her last comment caught Adam's attention and anger filled his eyes.
"You threw away our friendship for some guy?" Adam whispered. His eyes were stony, and the cold that Joan had gotten so used to had replaced the usual soft light. Once again, Adam had slipped out of reach.
"Goodbye Joan," Adam mumbled, stuffing bread crusts and napkins back into the picnic basket.
Without even so much as a glance over his shoulder, Adam took off across the cemetery, guided only by blind fury. He stopped at the gate to look back, and for a moment he stood absolutely still, caught in a form of trance, watching.
Joan sat where he had left her, her knees tucked under her chin as sobs wracked her body. It was in this moment, as Adam stood with one hand on the cemetery gate, that he could have sworn he heard her call out…but not to him. Her eyes were lifted to the clouds, and she threw her words at the sky.
