Rating: T

Pairing: Zach/Kendall, AU

AN: Song lyrics from Sarah McLachlan's 'Train wreck,' from her album, 'Afterglow'


Something irritating was rippling around inside Zach's skull, something that interrupted his thoughts and skewered his ability to work. It had slowly grown over the past weeks from a mild annoyance to a steady cause of his more violent thoughts. He hated when something like this happened.

Not that anything like this had ever happened before.

So, needless to say, he didn't know what to do about this. He found himself abandoning his work, unable to concentrate beyond a few sentences, a spattering of words. Zach found to his unhappiness that today was no different; with a quiet sigh, he shut his pen and set it to the side of papers, knowing it was useless.

A part of him wanted to visit Miranda but… that isn't it, Zach, it's something connected to her, but it isn't Miranda who has stuck herself inside your head and refuses to get out.

Zach kneaded his knee with a fist, flexed a hand; his thumb found the band and began twisting it, and he grimaced when he caught the movement. It was another new thing, this strange new habit of his to play with the wedding band. He'd twist it, feel the smooth curve of metal beneath the pad of his thumb… the metal should be cold.

Zach forced his hand flat, set it down on the desk, ignoring his instant urge to fiddle with the gold. He wasn't going to do anything useful today, he decided, and stood, tugging his jacket straight as he put together his work; maybe he'd work tonight, later, when that something in his head stopped.

Your love in all it's finery
Tear up the darkness all around me
Until I can breathe again
Until I believe again

Kendall was vaguely aware of the life going on around her. It was like a muffled sitcom going on around her, a kind of fuzzy something that didn't really matter. She tried to make it matter, tried to draw it around her like a winter coat, but it felt like, the harder she tried the harder it was to follow.

Kendall tried to care about the fact that Greenlee was in the restroom with David, was screwing him between his shifts anywhere she could find him… at the hospital, at Fusion… she'd caught them, last night, on Greenlee's desk, watched in sick fascination for several heartbeats before rushing out to her car, shaking and shivering and cold.

And, yet, it didn't really matter, not really, not truly… nothing did these days.

Kendall looked up, her eyes passing over Simone and Danielle, sitting together and laughing… she couldn't hear them, couldn't focus in on the words and the harder she tried, the harder it became, the less she was able to even figure out what they were doing. Movement behind them, a flash of dark jacket and her hideous pink satin nonsense…

Right there, in public, pressed up against the wall, the two whispered together, fingers linked as she pulled him, pushed him toward the elevator. She didn't even try to hide the way the pink dress rode up higher than it should, how the one strap of her little dress hung down, offering one elegant round shoulder.

And then she turned halfway, met Kendall's gaze… and it was a something, something dark and hungry… Kendall flinched, lowering her head, trying to beat down the something that flexed back excitedly, leaving her feeling shamed and dirty.

She heard the quiet ding of the elevator, could see them, in her mind's eye, heading back to some place to get what Greenlee needed. What Greenlee needed and wanted and David was so happy to give her, whatever she wanted… he was crazy about her, always had been… even when she had been his brother's.

Cause I'm a train wreck
Waiting to happen
Waiting for someone to come pick me up off the tracks
A wild fire born of frustration
Born of a world, oh, that gets me so high
I've no fear at all

He was pulled from studying his Scotch by a crash of lightning, an invisible crash of raw fury that made the muscles beneath his skin twitch in warning. From where he sat, in his slacks and shirt, tie loose around his neck, he raised his head from the amber colored liquid, swirling in the glass, to look out the window.

Another flash cut like a dagger, and the room flashed an ice blue, a violent paleness that seemed unnatural… and, very suddenly, he found himself closed into a silent room, no longer lit with soft gold of electric softness… how fucking ironic.

With a grimace, he pulled himself to his feet, carefully setting down the untouched glass before carefully picking his way to the window. All he saw was the night darkness, a smothering blackness that crept into his home. Already, his place was growing hot, heated, closed and imposing and he had a sudden shocking need to run out before the walls closed in on him.

And then the next flash of lightning hit, and, in a heartbeat of jarring, violent light, he saw the shape, crouched and huddled before the door opposite his. He knew that shape, knew the way that mane of hair hung around her face. He saw the slim shape, always so shockingly forceful and dangerous, for exactly what it was.

She was a fragile woman, on her knees, in the rain, searching for her keys in the dark.

But your eyes like midnight fireflies
Light up the trenches where my heart lies
Until I can see again
Find my way back again

Kendall found it fitting to be caught out, searching for her keys, in the middle of a storm. She'd been conceived n the middle of a storm like this, maybe God would strike her down with a bolt from above, smite her before she ruined all life beyond recovery.

She was already frozen through, the chilled rain having sunk through her coat and dress, her skin numb as the weight down on her back. Her purse, dropped, was already a lost cause, and, tomorrow, she'd simply throw it away. Her hands scrabbled over stone, nails catching painfully over crags.

And then something was at her side, a hand reaching past her face to… over the roaring of the rain, she heard the jingling of metal against metal. Another flash showed her a shape before she found herself being shoved forward, arms around her to open the door. Kendall staggered at the force against her back, threw out a hand to grab the force…

Her heels caught on her carpet and, if he hadn't of caught her arm, she'd have probably killed herself in the fall. She was aware of a slam of the door, the sound of her keys hitting the marble of her kitchen counter… she felt his hand on her arm, a warm, almost painful force that guided her forward.

And then she was sitting, hearing her own heavy breathing against the back drop of him going through the drawers, the sound of silverware, of rubber bands and scissors and other little items that had no other place. It was dark and tight in here, closed off and hot and heated and…

Kendall found herself sitting against her kitchen counter, ass on the floor, legs painfully tangled up in her dress, hair clumped down around her face. The light was flickering, golden, too soft for her to completely understand… too warm and soft and… "Why can't women keep flashlights instead of candles?"

Cause I'm a train wreck
Waiting to happen
Waiting for someone to come pick me up off the tracks
A wild fire born of frustration
born of the one love that gets me so high

She watched, dully, as he moved around the mantle, igniting each candle, first with several stray matches, then with other candles. She was dazed, shaken down in her core… and she didn't understand him. He finally couldn't take the silent appraisal and glanced over his shoulder, staring back at his watcher.

Jesus, she looked pitiful. White to the lips, pale veins visible even in the dim light of candles… her clothes, a mass of unrecognizable cloth, hung heavy off her frame. She just stared back blankly, shocking blue eyes sunken in far too deep into that perfect face. "Kendall… are you okay?"

She just stared, almost looking look like one of those lifeless porcelain dolls his mother had collected. And it sickened him. She wasn't some empty husk of ruffled lace and pale porcelain… Kendall Hart was life… or, at least, she was supposed to be. This was just wrong. Setting down the candle, he headed over, crouching long enough to get a hold on her.

Setting her on her feet, he pushed and shoved off the excuse for a coat, grunting when it hit the floor with a muffled thump of wet weight. Grasping her bare arms—she's too cold, far, far too cold—he turned her, setting her on the couch unhappily. She was… wrong.

He watched for long moments before trudging to the fireplace, dropping unceremoniously to his knees and digging out the stacks of firewood she kept at its side. He highly doubted the Fusion catalogue here was overly important and began shredding that, wishing for some actually kindling.

I've no fear at all
To fall so deep into you
Loose myself completely
In your sweet embrace
All my pain's erased

Kendall watched him make the fire, enjoying the way he stacked it. He stacked it nice, and it was lovely how well he did this really. By the time he turned back to her with that velvet gaze of his, she was feeling good enough that she could return it with something beyond a blank stare.

Not that her attempt at cool calmness was anything more than an attempt. His gaze broke hers instantly and she flinched, looking away from too much knowledge and deciding to focus on the remains of her coat, sitting there like some great dead beast. She forced herself to stay calm when his weight settled beside hers on the couch.

He was warm, a marvelous heat that pulsed with a quiet heartbeat that made parts of her flex and tighten in eagerness. His pulse started another heartbeat, one beneath her, between her, in that oh so sacred space that should never be questioned for its cravings. Kendall struggled past it, struggled to shake off the growing haze of hunger that was slowly unraveling all the good work she'd done as he'd prepared the fire.

She wanted heat, wanted something to satisfy that something inside her, that something that he was so easily causing to stir and shift in excitement. He was heat, she thought drunkenly, he was heat and warmth and everything that she needed and wanted and, oh, god… oh god, oh god, oh god…

That look in Greenlee's eyes as she went off with David, that something that the two understood, something that they shared… beyond words. She was with David right now, probably at his cabin, with him, with him inside her… and she was probably warm and she was probably no longer cold and…

"Kendall… I have a question for you."

She tried to ignore the way his fingers had settled on her wrist, tips finding the steady beat of her blood beneath the skin… but she couldn't, and found herself staring at him, found her own frozen blue gaze meeting that burning, warm one that spoke of desert nights that weren't all that cold, believe it or not.

"What?" A soft whisper, a breath of defeat in the darkened room, still hearable over their breathing and that breaking and popping of wood in fire… he needed to stop, he needed to go away with his heat and warmth and fire and…

"What do you want?"

She shouldn't answer, shouldn't speak, shouldn't give voice to these thoughts in her head, shouldn't… "I want…" She shouldn't do this, let him know, let him see… "I want to want."

What she wanted, truly wanted, went unsaid, but she didn't need to speak, didn't need to voice her heart. She saw that in his gaze… saw in that hazel warmth… Kendall stared as he raised her hand, eyes studying the way that frozen blue vein traced her skin, frozen blood that should be burning and red…

From your mouth, it's all that I wish
Mercy of your lips, just one kiss
Until I can breathe again
Until I can sing again

The next moments passed through as a flash of sudden shocking hunger… his fingers found her dress, yanked and she let him, hearing the buttons along her back pop and snap, hearing a few scatter across the floor, her hands tearing at his shirt…

She grunted, gasped against his mouth when he pushed her back, pushing her down to the floor, following her in a slow slide… he pulled away, focused long enough to find the remains of her dress and pull it down and off, past the bra and down, growling in annoyance at being unable to shove it down past her hips, seeing as how she was sprawled out across the floor.

She pulled him back, yanking him and tugging at him desperately, panting helplessly, struggling to keep from screaming in frustration at there still being clothes between them… she need them off, away, out of the way of her and her heat… she pushed the shirt off him, shoved it away, hands going down to his slacks…

And she groaned when he pushed her back down, onto the floor, knee pushing open her legs and she responded happily…

Cause I'm a train wreck
Waiting to happen
Waiting for someone to come pick me up off the tracks
A wild fire born of frustration
born of the one love that gets me so high

They lay together, under covers he had found in her closet, on her bed, mostly because it was easier on both their backs. The fire was nothing but a pile of dying embers, a mound of cooling gray ash. Outside, the morning sunlight was lighting the town, heating the rooms no longer controlled by air conditioners.

Her hair, sticky with sweat, stuck to her neck and back, stuck to his chest and face… he wasn't willing to move it yet. His fingers fiddled with the strands, peeling one, every so often, from her skin and letting it curl in his fingers. "Kendall?"

She whispered against his skin, murmured words and he smiled slightly at the flush of moist heat at her voice.

Her words, softly muffled were nonetheless clear to him, clear as the fact that they'd be spending the day at the casino, which was, to judge by the lack of emergency calls, still fine… "I want you."