Jumper

by Diena Taylor

This was originally posted on the seaQuesties fic list.

This story has to do with attempted suicide. Just so you know.

*All Disclaimers Apply*

Jumper

by Diena Taylor

The wind whipped his hair into his face, and he willed himself to look down twenty stories to the street below. For a moment, fear made him forget why he was up here on the ledge of the roof to begin with. Could he really do this? Did he have the courage to put one foot in front of the other and plunge into oblivion? Lucas Wolenczak liked to think that he did, but he realized that he couldn't be sure until he tried.

Brody had the courage to jump in front of that bullet for Lonnie and the Captain. Did he have the same kind of courage? Could he match wits with Brody one more time? It was the ultimate experiment: he had left a note, would it be found in time for someone to save him from himself? Part of him was praying someone would come - the other part was edging closer and closer to the side of the ledge.

He wondered fleetingly why he was choosing this method. Maybe it was because he had always wanted to see what it was like to fly, even if it was only going to be for a couple of seconds. Or maybe it was because Brody had lost his life by jumping -albeit not off of a building.

Everything was so different now. Everyone had changed - even him. The world was such a different place. Not just the government and politics, but little things. Favorite vid shows had been cancelled, all of his mini-disks no longer worked with the new plays, the computer systems he had once been so, so familiar with were now faster, more complex, and completely strange to him. He had to re-learn and re-master everything all over again. It wasn't so much the war that bothered him... well, of course _that_ bothered him, but it was so difficult to get used to. It was all the little, everyday things he once took for granted that were getting to him.

He still wasn't quite sure if he truly, deep down, wanted to do this. It wasn;t as though he had no other options. But what _did_ he have in this world? A collections of obsolete music and vid-disks and an out-of-date computer expertise? Oh yeah, and a uniform. But who cared about the outward appearance if everything else inside him was pure chaos?

He knew he acted calm, acted like everyone else was acting, for the most part. He knew that there was no way anyone could tell there was a war going on inside him, threatening to rip him apart at any time. Sometimes he wasn't even aware of it as he automatically went through the boing, midless daily routine. But there were other times when he felt like he had to scream, but kept it inside. This was a private war - any intervention might hinder rather than help his quest to find a way to end it.

And he found a way to end it. Well, sort of. The idea had come to him the day after he had learned of Brody's death. He had been thinking about how incredibly brave Brody had been, to have given his life like that. He began to wonder if he could have done the same thing in Brody's place. This line of thought took it's normal course, and he began thinking about death. And then it came to him. But he wasn't sure if he could end it like that - if he really had the willpower to jump.

If it turned out he didn't have the courage, what was he going to do? Something had to be done to call a cease-fire between the warring parties in his mind. But if he _did_ have the courage, what would everyone else do? Brody's death had been hard enough on them - and that had been a death of valor, of honor, to save two others. This death would be... suicide. No valor, no honor, just confusion and pain. And no one would be saved - except himself, from this existance.

He wanted more than anything not to have to think about the consequences his actions might have. But he had to if he was really going to go through with this, didn't he? Or maybe not thinking was the point. Maybe it could be as mindless as his daily shifts. Maybe he could block off all emotions and take those last couple of steps.

He struggled to free his mind of guilt, of fear, of anything... and he stepped forward.....

And stopped as his right foot slipped on the stone ledge, nearly plunging him onto the pavement. Heart pounding, he dropped to his knees, struggling to keep from hyperventilating. He wasn't ready, he didn't have the courage.

He stepped back onto the roof, surprised at how unsteady he was. He found that he had to sit down for a moment, leaning against the side of the ledge, taking deep, shuddering breaths.

The fact that he had come even _that_ close to death by his own hand was terrifying. The fact he had the capacity to get up on the ledge and think hard and long about killing himself was more than unsettling.

Lucas took a deep breath and stood up. He couldn't let anyone know about this - he had to go back downstairs. He had to walk into his hotel room. He had to destroy the note, and he had to go about his business like nothing had happened. They shipped out in less than a day - he had to be ready, or Hudson would kick him off the seaQuest. Or something. Lucas couldn't let that happen, on top of everything else. He didn't need to do this, not now.

Slowly and carefully, he walked downstairs to meet his friends.

-30-