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
Disclaimer: Joan of Arcadia and all of its characters belong to Barbara Hall and CBS Productions, in association with Sony Pictures Television.
Suggested soundtrack: Fallen, by Sarah McLachlan. Sometimes I wonder if that song was written for the show. Just listen to the words!
Chapter 2
Joan didn't come home in time for dinner that night. Instead, she found herself wandering aimlessly through Arcadia, in search of anything that would bring her even the slightest bit of comfort.
The soft light of a used bookstore caught Joan's attention, and she was inside browsing the aisles before she could stop herself. Joan trailed her fingers along the spines of the old books, stopping in the religion section. A rust coloured cover caught her attention, and she stared at the picture of Joan of Arc weaved into the tapestry-like cover. Pulling the book off the shelf, Joan sat down on the carpet and flipped through the book carefully.
"It's interesting, isn't it?" Joan looked up to see an older woman wearing a flowered skirt and a thick pair of glasses. She had a kind smile.
Joan sighed and waited for the woman to say something cryptic about the parallels between the book and her situation.
"I'm not here to give you an assignment, Joan," the woman smiled. "Is there anything you want to talk about?"
"Go away. I have nothing to say to you right now."
"I understand that you're upset Joan, and that's ok."
"No, you don't understand. You couldn't possibly understand what it feels like to be so close to someone that you could tell them anything, anything at all, and they would accept it with no questions asked. And then have it all ripped away again, because of a stupid misunderstanding."
"Do you really think that that's a fair assumption, Joan? Believing is a heavy burden, you know. Would Adam have believed?" God interrupted with a look of genuine concern. Joan couldn't tell if the look was directed towards her, or Adam.
Joan frowned, thinking about what God had said.
"Think about it, Joan. What you do is not necessarily something that people would simply accept. Believing takes a lot of faith, and some people just don't have enough in times like these." With that, the old woman turned, and with a trademark wave, she disappeared around the corner.
Joan looked back down at the book in her hands, puzzled by what she had just heard. If people believed in miracles, wouldn't they believe in God? But maybe it was the other way around. Maybe a miracle was what they needed in order to believe.
By the time Joan got home, it was far past dusk. The porch light was on, but the family car was missing from the driveway. She entered the house through the door in the kitchen, not entirely surprised to see her mother leaning on the counter waiting for her. The expected 'Where have you been?!' and 'You better have a good excuse!' and 'You're gonna get it this time, Joan!' did not come. Instead, Helen Girardi pulled her daughter into a tight hug.
Luke stepped into the kitchen as this moment, and raised an eyebrow at what he saw.
"Where's Dad?" Joan asked quietly.
"Out looking for you. When you didn't come home for dinner…" Luke trailed off.
"I'm sorry Mom, I lost track of time." Joan explained.
"Come on, let's get you to bed," Helen replied, wiping the tears off of her daughter's cheeks.
As Joan drifted to sleep, she wondered if her parents' calm reaction was the calm before the storm. They couldn't possibly let something like this go. It just wasn't like them.
The next morning came too soon, and Joan slammed a hand down on her alarm clock in anger. It was not going to be a good day. Joan spent all of breakfast picking at her pancakes (made by her mom, placed on the table with a smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder) and waiting for someone to start yelling at her. Her father left for work with a kiss on the cheek, and her mother offered a sad smile before heading out the door.
The walk to school was spent mostly in silence, or at least on Joan's part, as Luke questioned her about yesterday's events.
"Luke, I don't want to talk about it." Joan said quietly.
"Well at least tell me where you were!" Luke pushed.
"I was at the cemetery."
"What?! Why?"
"I was visiting Rocky's grave."
"Oh…And then...?" Luke asked as they approached the school.
As the siblings were cutting across the grass, they crossed paths with Grace and Adam. Adam kept his eyes staring straight ahead, and continued without a word.
"Adam wait!" Joan called.
"Leave me alone, Joan." Adam muttered without turning around.
"Joan?" Grace exclaimed in surprise, and perhaps a hint of anger, as she glanced back and forth between her friends. "We're back to this again?"
Grace sighed and continued towards the school while Joan chased after Adam, desperate to explain herself.
Luke was left standing on the front lawn of the school, completely confused.
"What just happened?" He muttered, tilting his head to the side slightly.
"Confusing, isn't it?" A young man in a tan jacket asked from behind Luke.
Luke turned slightly, glancing over his shoulder.
"Yeah," he answered quietly, "I guess you just have to have faith that it will all make sense eventually."
The young man nodded, smirking a little, and then followed the rest of the students inside.
"Are you coming?" he asked over his shoulder. "You'll be late for homeroom!"
Joan fumbled with the lock on her locker with no luck. She pounded her fist against the metal box, as if she expected it to pop open. She dropped her backpack onto the floor, and tried her combination again. The metal door screeched open just as Iris sauntered up.
"Have you seen Adam?" she asked.
"What happened to the nauseating nickname?" Joan sighed without looking up.
"If you see him," Iris pushed a shoebox into Joan's arms, "can you give him this?"
Joan glanced down at the box, and then at Iris.
"What's this?"
"His stuff. He left it at my house."
"Can't you give it to him? You'll see him in art class."
"Are you really that dense? Joan, we broke up."
"What?! When?" Joan exclaimed. "Why?"
"Yesterday night. I guess it just wasn't working. Plus it was pretty obvious that he likes someone else."
Iris turned and began to walk back the way she had come.
"Iris, wait! I don't want to be a messenger! Iris!" Joan called down the hall, but gave up when Iris didn't stop.
"Why me?" Joan muttered, leaning her head against her locker.
AP chem was torture. It was a fact that had been in the back of Joan's mind for sometime, but today was the epitome of torture. Grace was in a terrible mood, and Adam was staring out the window with a look of pure anguish.
As the rest of the class worked on their assignments, Joan pushed Iris' box towards Adam's end of the table.
"Adam? Iris wanted me to give this to you."
Adam didn't reply. Instead, he buried his head in his arms and pulled his hood farther up on his head.
"Adam, just take the friggin' box before she throws herself at your feet." Grace muttered.
"Stay out of it, Grace," Adam said without raising his head.
"Technically you breaking up with your girlfriend isn't really any of my business either, so can you just take the box so we can both forget this ever happened?" Joan pleaded.
Adam sighed and grabbed the box, pulling into his lap as the bell rang.
"Any questions you haven't finished will have to be done as homework. I want your group reports on my desk at the beginning of class tomorrow!" Ms. Lischak called as students hurried towards the door.
"Great! Now we have to do this for homework!" Joan grumbled.
"Where should we do it?" Grace asked as the three students pushed their way down the hall.
"I guess we could do it at my house," Joan sighed.
"Fine. Joan's house after school." Grace said.
"Fine," Adam muttered.
The Girardi house was a hive of activity that day after school. Joan, Grace, Adam, Luke, and Glynis were all crowded in the kitchen, munching on veggies and dip.
"I guess we should work in my room since it will be pretty crowded down here," Luke suggested to Glynis.
"Oh no, you won't!" Mrs. Girardi shook her head as she walked into the kitchen. "Luke, you know the rules."
Adam balanced a carrot stick on a piece of broccoli, completely aware of Joan's eyes washing over his face, down his arms, and resting to gaze at his hands.
"Luke and Glynis will work in the kitchen, Joan, Adam, and Grace will go to Joan's room." Mrs. Girardi decided.
Adam stole a glance at Joan, curious to see her reaction.
"Fine, let's go," Joan said, her voice almost sad. Grace followed her friend up the stairs, and Adam grabbed his messenger bag and tucked the shoebox under his arm before following the two girls.
When Adam got to Joan's room, Grace was sitting in the swivel chair by Joan's desk, and Joan was sprawled out on her bed with her feet resting on her pillow. Adam sat down on the hardwood floor, his back against the end of Joan's bed.
The worked slowly, and stiffly, struggling to get through the questions with as little communication as possible. As the sun sank lower in the sky, Adam couldn't help noticing the way the sun etched ripples of light across Joan's face. She squinted slightly, focusing all of her attention on the lined sheet of paper in front of her.
"I've gotta go," Grace said two hours later, glancing at her watch.
Joan sighed and raised her eyebrows in question.
"Hebrew class," Grace muttered with an apologetic shrug.
"See ya tomorrow," Joan offered her friend a small smile.
"Later," Adam said glancing up.
Grace pulled her leather jacket on and swaggered out of the room, leaving a heavy tension in her wake. Adam turned back to his work, eager to finish so that he could get out of this torture. He was supposed to be mad, yet for some reason whenever he looked at Joan he couldn't breathe, and his palms got sweaty. He felt like a fifth grader experiencing his first crush, and there was nothing he could do to change the way he felt.
"Adam," Joan said quietly. She had been watching him since Grace had left the room.
"What Joan?" Adam forced himself to call her by her real name.
"Why do we always end up in the same place?"
"We're best friends with the same person," Adam explained, feigning obliviousness.
"No, I mean, us. Why do we always end up in the same place in our relationship?"
"We went over this yesterday, Joan." Adam said quietly. This time her name just slipped out.
"You left before I finished," Joan replied. "If you just let me explain…"
Adam sighed. He would wait forever if she needed it. He turned so that he was facing her. She was lying on her stomach, her feet on her pillow and her head propped up by her hands.
"Ok," She paused, "where do I start?" she wondered out loud.
Her nails were painted red, and the polish was chipping off of her index finger of her right hand. Adam cursed inwardly for noticing.
"The beginning is usually a good place," Adam answered, trying to sound impatient, although he was distracted by the crackling red paint.
"Alright," Joan swallowed, scared that she was doing the wrong thing by telling Adam the truth. "It all started months ago, a few days before I met you."
There was a sudden know on the door, and both Joan and Adam looked up, completely surprised. They hadn't heard anyone come up the stairs.
"Time for dinner," Mrs. Girardi announced.
"I should get going," Adam said, with a casual glance at Joan.
"No, you should stay! There's enough food to fit a small army down there," Helen insisted.
"I don't know," Adam hesitated. It was too soon to let his guard down again, too soon to tell if Jane – Joan – would turn away from him again.
"Stay," Joan said as she got up. "You can use my phone to call your father."
Joan pointed to the phone on the nightstand and followed her mother out of the room. Adam had no choice. He was staying for dinner.
Author's note: Thanks for the wonderful reviews! Finals are starting soon, so I won't be posting very often. I'll try for once a week. I know that's not much, but I hope you guys will stick with me! This chapter was mostly filler, and I'm sorry for that! It's all part of my master plan ;)
