(Un)healthy Apathy
author: Angela Evans
feedback: por favor
rating: PG
distribution: my LJ or ask me.
disclaimer: I don't own them, although I'd love to have Adam, Luke, and Kevin, mmm!
spoilers: "Trial and Error" & "Common Thread"
summaryYou had Jane, now you don't. An explanation, in a way.
classification: Adam POV, J/A, Ficlet
a/n: I've become Adam's apologist, or defender of his character at any rate.
muse-ic: "Latter Days" – OverTheRhine: What a beautiful piece of heartache this has all turned out to be./ Lord knows we've learned the hard way all about healthy apathy
thanks: Rose, for all the great help and for her title suggestion of "Monkey Business", even if I didn't use it.

"I had them. Now I don't."

Stupid sea monkeys. They died quickly. You didn't mean to kill them, but you got absorbed with a piece or with Jane, and they slowly starved. It's fitting in a way, seeing how things with Jane went.

You had Jane, now you don't.

You want to pretend it was just about the sex. Jane wasn't ready, and you were determined to be okay with that. But the need built up in you and demanded to be let out. And Bonnie…it was like she put a spell on you. You didn't want her; you wanted Jane. But when Bonnie kissed you that first time, out of the blue, it was like you'd been drugged. And your body was no longer your own – like a shadow of yourself. You don't even quite understand it, and you can't explain it to Jane. You try and try though, because you'll always love Jane. You and she are eternal; somehow, you'll survive this. Once you throw off Bonnie's hex.

She's trying to be tough, but you've seen that look of deep hurt in her eyes. It kills you, imprisoning you in a fresh hell.

You feel like a rat.

No, like someone who can't even keep stupid sea monkeys alive. Someone who destroys with carelessness. Like a drowning man, you cling to the hope that you'll find your way back to Jane, even if all you can see of her light nowadays is faint glimmer.

fin