Title: White Noise
Author: Lexie Jayne
Fandom: Dark Angel
Characters: Jondy, Zack
Prompt: Birth
Word Count: 887
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.
IV. Birth
Her face is white and red, and her eyes seem to swallow her face whole; she has taken on an almost waxy quality now, sweat lighting her face, strands of her red hair sticking to her face. She cries out in pain every few minutes, but there is none of the screaming he envisaged; just a strained, pale face, eyes that seemed to be burnt into her skull and a look thrown at him that made him leave her and the medic alone.
She's lucky; she's not in the basement-sewer shanty town but in a small, almost clean room in a building nestled in the heart of Terminal City. The idea of having her baby down in the filth, only a thin curtain separating her from the rest of the transgenics had haunted Jondy from the first moment the medic had mentioned it.
But she's away from all of that, alone with a medic who's five years younger than she is. Zack waits with Zane outside the room, his face drawn, as they wait in silence.
The look she shot him before he left the room was one of regret, pain and frustration. Her blue eyes were hard and bitter, and he couldn't remember her ever glaring at him like that before. He's turned his back on her emotions before, and this time is no different.
Zane stands with Zack for hours, in utter silence. He genuinely wonders why Zack is here, whether he feels responsible for Jondy's position, whether he actually truly loves both her and the baby, or some ingrained sense of duty that would mean he would be waiting whether it was Jondy behind the door, or Max, or Syl.
They wait for hours longer, tensing at the odd cry of pain emitted from the room. And then, there's a stillness in the air, and the tiny brown haired medic pokes her head through the door.
"You can come in now, if you want," she says very calmly; the medic has an almost eerie manner – one that looks straight into their soul and reads all their lies and secrets. Zack never feels more inadequate as a soldier and as an X5 as when he is faced with the Manticore experiments that didn't run for their lives.
Both men step forward. The room smell mostly of blood, and there is a plastic laundry tub in the corner, lined with the cleanest sheets they could find, and Zack can see the tiniest child that has ever crossed his path. The infant is still, but has think dark blonde hair sticking to his scalp. He breathes softly, and Zack feels a rush of … emotion? Protectiveness? ... For the tiny person.
She was curled up, wrapped in her clean pyjamas – a worn, soft t shirt that may or may not have been Krit's at one point, and some cut-off sweatpants. Her face was still a knotted spider's web around her face, her eyes looking more like bruises with her exhaustion.
Zane kneels beside her and takes her hand in both of his, rubbing it gently, and pushing her hair off of her clammy face. She offers him the ghost of a smile and he just knows this was never part of the plan; that this was never on the list of things Jondy wanted out of life. But X5s are designed to recover quickly from whatever life deals them, and this is no exception.
But X5s are designed to recover quickly from whatever life deals them, and this is no exception.
The medic is holding the baby, seemingly aware Zack will not reach for his own child, rocking it back and forth. Zane strokes Jondy's hair off her face as she dozes on the floor, Zack staring at the baby.
"What's its name?" Zane asks, his voice sounding almost vulgar in the silence of the room.
"She said he could pick out a name," the medic looked at Zack with that irritating knowing look. Zack stared at the baby sleeping in her arms.
"Is it a girl?"
"A boy," the medic stroked the baby's cheek.
Zane watches Zack expectantly, just like when they were kids, and Zack wishes someone would take all of this away from him, banish it from his mind. But the infant yawns and Zack wonders if this isn't going to be the disaster it could've been.
"Adam," Zack decides; the choice was between Ben, the brother he failed, and Adam, the person whom he never had the chance to be. But Ben means too many regrets and too much pain, and Adam seems redemptive.
He doesn't hold the baby, but sits on the other side of Jondy. The medic, still rocking the baby to sleep – Adam – watches the tableau of the two men, a brother watching his sister sleep, and a man watching his lover sleep.
And Adam sleeps.