Chapter 6:

Disclaimer: Still stands the same.

Enjoy

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The time went by, for she was on a happy high. Rex, the one who was still fonding over her that night, was still there when she and her boss were closing up. They had to call him a cab, and were left with the puke he left on the front steps.

"I'm not cleaning any of that up," she huffed, pulling her hair back behind her shoulders, and going back inside to retrieve her two coats.

"Me either," her boss agreed, following right behind her.

She put on her favorite purple coat, and folded the other one she was using for the day.

"Jondy," he said.

"Yes?" she questioned.

"No," he shook his head, "I was just thinking. How did your mother come up with your name? I've heard of a lot of weird names before, but nothing like yours."

My name is weird, she thought to herself in disbelief, if only he knew that her mother didn't come up with the name, but somebody else and she received a name even though she should not have.

But she had a story prepared for if anyone was to ask about her name, and stories for other things as well.

She sighed, with a shrug of her shoulders, and said, "Before I was born my mother thought I was going to be a boy, so she named me Johnny. Well, it turns out, I was a girl; a disappointment to them, but they still wanted the 'Johnny' they were hoping for, so they kept the name Johnny, even for their baby girl."

"That doesn't explain, 'Jondy,'" he said straightening up, and throwing the last of the bottles in a bag. The cling of all the clattering glass bottles was a little too much for her sensitive ears.

She felt Zack's presence, but didn't dare to turn and look for him, for if she did her boss would get curious as to what she was looking for, or at.

Had the rattling of the bottles bothered him as well? She had to remember her boss was talking to her, and not to space out, so she continued on, "It's really stupid, but when I was little, I couldn't say 'Johnny,' for the life of me; I would say, 'Jondy,' and stuck to it. I kept it, and that's who I am today. I don't think it would work out to be named Johnny."

"You are really, really strange, and only get stranger," he went over to her, and handed her pay check.

"Well, what can you do, you know? We'll I'm leaving I will be back for my shift tonight, after the carnival."

"Take it easy," he said, a nod of his head. He heaved the bag toward the back.

"Always do," she said, the door swinging closed behind her. Walking down the street, Zack joined her out of nowhere. He was there the whole time, but now he didn't have to hide his presence.

"I named you, remember," he said through the silence. Their footsteps were the main sound, and they echoed in the early hours of the morning, through the puddles, and the wet asphalt road.

"I know," she nodded her head once, "You thought of the idea, because of Ben's stories, you know, for us to all have names. I was the first one you chose; you know after yourself. How did you get that anyways? Did you look at yourself one day, in the mirror and say, 'Yeah, I look like a Zack?'"

He shook his head, and the corners of his lips curled upward, even in the least bit. "I just knew, and that was why you were named Jondy. I saw you in the mirror, and knew you were just a 'Jondy'." He played her own words against her.

"You're making fun of me," she chuckled, and elbowed him in the rib.

He grabbed her hand, and laced his fingers with hers, making her heart race, and her to stumble on the cracked pavement for a second, before getting her footing again.

This was a shock, and a change. The last time he jerked his hand away, and said, 'Don't.' Now, he did the action on his own. What brought on this change? Was it all the alcohol in his system? She could, for herself say, that all of it was making her mighty happy, like she was free, and light as a feather.

She liked it. It made her forget her troubles, and worries, and past influences of shocks from the past. They were far away, and out of her head. Now was just a normal night of going home, with someone she loved, and loved dearly.

"You know," she said, swinging their grasped hands a little bit, "We are free, even if we live in hiding?"

"You're one to talk; you work, and interact with the free public. The guys in there are at your will and mercy."

"Nah, you're the one to talk, you travel everywhere in these poor states, and see all the wonderful people, and sites. You get to see Syl and Krit, and especially Zane."

"Why especially Zane?" he questioned.

"He lives in the same state as I do, and I can't go see him. I'd love to spend time with him, and everybody, but can't. It sucks; it really does. I can't just go up to someone I know, and ask them a question about something I am experiencing. I can't just walk up to Malady, and say, 'So my seizures are worse than usual, any suggestion to what I should do?"

"You have to handle the situations on your own. You're a soldier, you only need yourself, and you know that you can't do anything for them, but wait them out."

And pop pills, she thought.

"Even with a buzz, you can find a way to kill it," she grumbled. Why couldn't he be buzzed, or even drunk? She still wanted to know what kind of a drunk he would be.

"Thought you weren't," he said, and watched her, instead of in front of him.

"When the boss brings in a new shipment, well," she shrugged, "I'm an alcoholic, if you haven't noticed."

"Why would I think differently?" He said it so casually; he did not think that it was an insult. Maybe he wanted it to sound like one.

She shrugged it off. No use to fight when the air was warm, the sky was cloudless, and the moon was shining with brilliant stars. Morning would soon be coming, but for now, it was dark and nobody was around.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, up the stairs, where she showed him the key, before putting it in the lock.

"You see, this is a key. People use it to get in the house." She chuckled. She wasn't drunk. She was alert in her settings, but for the moment it just seemed so funny.

He opened the door to let them both in. If it was just her, then they'd be out there for a while.

Inside she left the lights off, and pushed past Zack quickly, and into the bathroom. Her right hand was starting to shake, and it was the last thing she wanted for him to see, when he already thought she was 'drunk off her rocker.'

She settled herself against the wall, till she heard his footsteps, then she put herself in the tub.

"Jondy, what's wrong?" She heard him say through the door. The door wasn't locked, and she was glad that he just didn't come bursting in there.

"Nothing Zack," she said, and pushed the taps on. Cold water streamed down her clothed self, and the shock to her system just made everything worse.

"Ahh, Shit," she yelled out, head falling back in the shakes, she hit her forehead on the tile of the wall.

"Jondy," Zack shouted.

"I'm fine Zack, I'm just taking a shower," she said. She held her arms back around her head, and avoided the spray from the shower head from going on her face.

She didn't hear retreating footsteps. Instead, she heard him slide down the door, and into a sit.

Okay, so he was going to sit out there, and wait for her? Fine, she thought, he could wait all night, if he wanted to.

Her shakes relaxed, but her emotions didn't. Tears ran down her eyes, and mixed with the shower water. She wanted to escape. Why couldn't they all just escape?

Every time something good was looking up, even if her problems weren't, a seizure had to happen, and everything came crashing back down to earth. She always tried to hide from her problems, to avoid them in the best ways possible, but they came back. Her drinking, it was so bad, but she wouldn't tell Zack that. It made her forget for moments, but when it came back it just made it worse.

For her seizures, it was way out of the question. She hated to think about what she was doing to her body.

She hated it, and she was sick of it.

All she wanted was to take her anger out on something.

Jondy opened her eyes, and with a quick swift of her hand, knocked all the shampoo bottles, and soaps off the small ledge of the bathtub where she had set them all up. Then she took all her wet clothes off, squeezed them out in the tub, and dropped them all onto the bathroom rug.

Soaking in the tub for a good twenty minutes, the water long cold, she wrapped a towel around herself, and leaving all the things she knocked over there, she opened the door startling Zack awake.

He fell asleep against the door, she was shocked.

Not as much as he seemed to be. He stood up, and ran a hand through his hair. He was caught off guard.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He barked. He looked past her to her bathroom mess, then her.

She had calmed down. All her frustrations went down the drain, and she didn't want to bring them back right now. She felt like a weight had been lifted off her chest.

Hairs soaking down her back, and onto the floor, herself wrapped in a towel, she said casually, "I need to get dressed." She didn't want to start up anything, but to instead, keep her calm interior, as well as exterior.

He gave her a hard look, but let her pass by. She went into her room, and dried her hair, and put on a pair of pajama shorts, and a jade ribbed tank before opening the door, and going back out into the kitchen. Zack was there, sitting at the table eating from a box of crackers.

She joined him, taking the box, and eating a few.

She had to smirk to herself. Zack may have been the best when it came to combat, and being the 'perfect soldier,' but if you really got to know Zack, and actually seen him with a habit, it was quite humanized. He was mad again, and just like her, he wanted to hear some sort of apology, even if it wasn't with the intention of meaning it at all.

"Zack," she said slowly.

"What?" he said.

"You alright?" she questioned.

"You're just jumbling my own words, and using them for yourself when clearly I'm not the one here with the problem." He growled.

"I'm fine," she said.

He took the box of crackers back.

With her finger, she picked up the crumbs on the table.

"I'm wrong in what I said about you protecting yourself. You're more liable now, then ever to get caught."

"Zack, you have that all wrong. I'm fine just the way I am. I-"

"Then put down the fuckin bottle," he snapped.

She stopped playing with the crumbs, and just stared down the table, not saying a word.

"You don't need it all the time. You're ruining yourself, and taking all the training, and letting it go to waste. When they are upon you, you won't know. The bottle in your hand will say it all."

"If you knew so much, then why did you challenge me tonight? Isn't that just fueling the flames?"

"I didn't know, until after, on what mistake I have made."

"I want you to tell me what happened, for you to show up on my doorstep like that," she broke the conversation he wanted to have; with the one she now wanted. He couldn't keep setting her problems up, and taking them down one after another. She wanted to now line up a problem of his, and take it down.

"No."

"You can't say no," she declared in full force, "I won, and I want you to tell me." Her eyes burned right into him. It was a demand, and he was not holding up his end of the bargain.

"Your word," she finished.

"Your brother Ben," he said in defeat, "I received the call, and went to help, to only have him turn on me." Zack got up from the table, slammed his chair in, and went into her room.

And just like that, again, she felt herself to be the blame. He came here, and she gave him nothing but trouble. He just needed relaxation.

She got up from the table, pushed her chair in, turned off the light, and went into her room to where he was. He was sitting down, feet to floor, and head in his hands. He wouldn't act like this for nothing. Something went wrong. Zack had said he turned on him. Maybe he was a mole.

After what Zack did for them, he should not even consider such things. As for Zack, he was exhausted. Everyone got exhausted, even him.

She got onto the bed and crawled over to his back, where she sat on her legs, and brought his shirt up over his head.

He let her too. He didn't say a word; he just sat there, in his misery.

She brought her cold hands to his shoulders, and kneaded. She pushed, and pulled his skin, digging her fingers in deep to find the knots. All the knots of tension were strong, but with her fingers, she was slowly pushing them away.

Running her nails down his back, she kneaded up and down his spine.

Letting him take control, he took both her hands, and twisted to get her flat on the bed, and himself on top of her. With his hands holding hers above her head, he lowered himself on her, and kissed her ferociously.

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Only one chapter left. Let me know what you think. If you are enjoying this story, check out my other X5 stories.