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There’s banging on the door to medical. Anya closes her eyes, having anticipated this. She tightens her grip on the painkiller bottle, then sets it on the counter.
Jimmy’s voice calls out. Anya suppresses a shudder, and answers him. He demands she open up. She won’t, of course. There is nothing that will stop her from doing this. Not even Curly, who stares at her on the medical cot with one somber eye, breathing heavily. She can tell he’s exhausted, and not just in the physical sense. She understands; it’s exactly why she’s going to do this.
Better her than Jimmy.
Anya sighs; the banging has stopped. It seems Jimmy and Daisuke have left. That’s good, she tries to convince herself. It’s good. Nothing will stop her from doing this.
She turns her gaze to Curly, more or less guiltily.
“I– I’m sorry I never wanted to give you your painkillers.” She says in a mildly hushed tone. “It’s just… I couldn’t bear to force them down your throat. I don’t want to believe I’m weak though, even if Jimmy makes me feel like it sometimes.”
Anya sighs.
“I wish it could’ve turned out differently. I– I wish you could have told us if something was wrong… I could have helped you. I care about you, too, Curly.”
She meets the former captain’s unbandaged eye in solemn silence. This could have turned out so much better.
“I suppose the damage is done now. There’s no going back anymore.” She hesitates. “Maybe it was done long before all this.” Anya touches her stomach. She feels slightly conflicted about killing the baby as well.
“I always wanted to have a child,” She says. “Not like this, though.”
Anya smiles warmly at Curly. “I wish I could’ve been a better nurse to you, too. It’s okay. I won’t have to worry about that soon.”
More, sorrowful silence. Anya takes a deep breath after several seconds.
“You know, I don’t think Jimmy ever really saw me as a person,” She admits quietly. “Even before he…” Anya trails off, unwilling to finish her sentence.
Curly offers no condolence, continuing to stare at her; though after a moment his mouth parts just the slightest bit, perhaps in apologetic acknowledgement.
I’m sorry, he seems to convey, or want to, despite not being able to move or speak. He looks pained, but then again, he always does at this point.
She can’t stall forever.
Anya turns her eyes away and to the floor. “I wish you didn’t have to see me… kill myself, Curly. I just– can’t do it anywhere else. And I’m… I’m doing it, because I want– need it to be me.” She exhales, voice still quiet. “If I do it, then Jimmy can’t. I hope you can understand.”
Her eyes flick to the broken man in front of her, meeting his eye for the last time. Her heart pangs. “Thanks for being a good captain to us. And thanks for… for caring. I really do appreciate it.” She offers another small, sadder smile.
“Goodbye, Curly.”
Anya turns, and opens the pill bottle.