Title: White Noise
Author: Lexie Jayne
Fandom: Dark Angel
Characters: Jondy, Zack
Prompt: Strangers
Word Count: 1 037
Rating: PG
Summary: They don't sleep, but lie next to each other and pretend that what they have is normal, and what they have will last.
Author's Notes: A back story and continuation to my one-shot Let Go. The idea niggled at me. Each part uses a prompt as given by fanfic100 at livejournal.
Dedicated to ZombieGurl98 for the nicest review I think I've ever received.
II. Strangers.
Jondy is avoiding him, and he doesn't know why.
She doesn't sleep so she has an advantage over him – she takes guard duty during the night, and when he seeks her out during daylight hours, she is busy with Alec or Zane or someone else.
Or she's sleeping, pale and sickly-looking in her corner, and he doesn't want to wake her. That would be almost cruel. He leaves her cups of water or sweet tea when he can, to try and convince her to at least talk to him and explain why she cannot look at him any longer.
She accepts his offerings, but turns her face away from him when he comes near her, looking for more work. Her body is still the frail looking frame of the past months, and in the back of his mind, he worries about her.
She goes on a supply run with Alec – a mission that involves explosives, and weapons, and more luck than anyone can wish for in a life time. Her red hair is tucked up under a black cap, and she offers him a think smile as she slides the magazine into the gun and moves out.
He's got guard duty while she's gone; he hasn't got the time to worry about her. When she gets back, she takes over, placing her hand on his cheek (her fingerless gloves are rough against his cheek; her fingers are so soft) and she kisses him gently.
And he is confused. It's easy to cover his confusion by dragging her back up to the seemingly abandoned Terminal City, and having her in an apartment where the wooden floor has rotted away. She cries out his name, and he rests his head on her shoulder and realises he's still confused.
Its weeks later, and he's on guard duty and she's gone off with Alec to secure drinking water and medical supplies for them. He wonders briefly if Alec and Jondy are having an affair, as they seem to work together too much for them not to be. He remembers the early days when they'd go to do something – catalogue weapons or examine the structurally unsound buildings, and they'd have quiet sex before slipping back up to the Main Hall, faces flushed but a job well done.
These thoughts become traitorous as he sees Alec stumbling in, favouring his right ankle, his arm tightly around Jondy's waist, her arm around his shoulder. He's half dragging, half carrying her. Her face is whiter than he's ever seen it – he can see the veins running through her eyelids, bright, offensive blue.
"A bullet wound to the shoulder," Alec hisses as Krit scoops Jondy into his arm. "She's lost a hell of a lot of blood - took us ages to get out." He's got a broken ankle, the bone pressing against the skin, dangerously close to ripping the flesh.
Jondy is laid down in the First Aid corner, where her black shirt is cut off and discarded. Her shoulder is a gouged mess of black-red blood, and he kneels beside her, his fingers pressed to her pulse, which is still there.
It feels like hours before the medic-X6 pulls back, examining the fine, symmetrical stitches she's pulled Jondy's skin together with. A pint or two of Syl's blood is rushing around her veins, and her cheeks look a little pinker, but that might just be his optimism.
"Sit with her until she wakes up," the medic instructs him, handing him some water and her ruined shirt. "Clean her up a bit." Her entire torso is smeared with blood, and her face is covered in grime, a small cut under her eye still oozing blood.
He wipes the blood away from her face, her neck, and adjusts her faded, old bra that is now minus one strap so that they could patch up her shoulder. He dunks the garment into the dish of water and wipes the smears of blood away from her body. He stares at her blankly as the water in the bowl turns rust coloured, thinking – or brooding as she once teasingly said.
She doesn't tease him anymore and he really cannot think what he did or said to discern her of it. It was endearing, and he secretly likes the teasing from his siblings. It balances out all the times they call him an asshole. And they do that a hell of a lot.
He looks down at the still form of Jondy, and his brain catches up to what he's looking at. Her torso was always firm and muscled, her bust modest. But now he's looking at her for the first time in weeks and what was once a toned, flat stomach bulges out just enough to grab his attention. And the noise in the background is turning to static.
Zack knows what this means, but sure as hell won't think about it until she comes to him; a fool-proof plan because none of the X5 women will ever approach a man for help. Their DNA practically has impossible levels of pride and independence written into it. She'll never come to him for anything; feminism has been taken to new heights thanks to his sisters. And Jondy.
Eventually, Syl offers to watch her for awhile, bringing him coffee and a small smile, thinking she sees her big brother in love. He snaps at her and her ridiculous assumptions, and leaves her with Jondy, who is still unconscious in the corner. He spends his night wondering what happens next.