[FIC] Lost: Beyond The Sea
Title: Beyond The Sea
Fandom: Lost
Characters: Sawyer and Sayid, and a guest spot from Jack.
Theme: 35 -- Gravestone
Leitmotif (when applicable): What happens on Mystery Island STAYS on Mystery Island
Warnings/Ratings: PG-13 for language. I won't say for certain if the semi-homosexual undercurrents were intentional or not but they just sorta came out that way. XD Two VERY heavy spoilers from Episode 20 'Do No Harm' is the setting for this secenario, if you watch TV or read any entertainment mags you more than likely know exactly what they are. There's hints of other motifs from other episodes but either you get it or you don't. XD
Synopsis: Sawyer and Sayid two of the fourty eight survivors of the doomed Oceanic Flight 815, their friendship is an uneasy one and thier rivalry is bitter, but they always seem to come through for one another in a pinch. Now in the time has come to bury one of their own, and the two Castaways have very different ideas on how to honor his memory. Yes folks there's a bit of angst in here. 6.6
PS: Don't laugh. ._.
‘It’s my responsibility to bury him’
Jack’s somber words echoed inside Sayid’s mind as he worked in silence just a few paces away from where one of their own would be put in final rest. The pit was up to Jack’s waist, a stolen glance every so often let the Iraqi know the Good Doctor was no longer playing the part of ‘Good Doctor’ but mourning friend as the tears rolled freely down his cheeks mingling with the sweat. Sayid said nothing, mourning in his own way, continuing to quietly thatch branches together with palm fronds. It’s this moment in time that the former Communications Officer instead turning his talent for constructing devious gadgets, using it for an artful construct.
Their comrade deserves the best, despite the dire situation; he will have a proper burial.
Jack scooped up another foot of sand, and then stabbed the shovel into the earth, leaning on it for support and wiping the muddied dust from his eyes. He cleared his throat and waited a few moments staring off down the coastline and beyond.
"You need rest, Jack. You look like hell." Sayid spoke up without turning from his diligent work.
"I-I-" the Doctor’s voice cracked as he panted for breath before he cleared his throat a second time. "I NEED to finish this, Sayid. I WILL--"
"I’ll take it from here." Came the familiar Southern accented voice from just over the nearby sand dunes.
Both Jack and Sayid blinked to turn their attention to the interloper, a taller wiry man with equally wiry blond hair that was always in his eyes. He stood towering over them at the top of the sand dune with his thumbs hooked through his jean belt loops, "Well. How about it?" he inquired somberly.
Jack and Sayid exchanged glances, Jack spoke first, "I thought you were taking guard duty over at the raft site, Sawyer?"
Sawyer shrugged his shoulders in a childlike fashion, "I was. I got to chapter twenty five in A Wrinkle In Time when Claire’s son started bawlin’ his little eyes out," he pulls out the pair of jury-rigged glasses from his pocket and uses them like a pointer, "It’s bad enough that I gotta wear these things while I read so I don’t get a headache BUT my ears and the innards of my skull are not so finely attuned to screaming babies with cholera."
Jack narrowed his eyes, "Babies get colic, Sawyer. Besides Claire’s baby is perfectly healthy for being born on a deserted island."
Sayid spoke up then, "Perhaps it would help if you went to check on her Jack. After all you are the only licensed physician on the island." The Iraqi smiled softly.
Jack paused, looking between the two men, stubbornly setting his jaw, "All right. Fine. I’ll go. I’ll be back in twenty minutes." The Doctor climbed out of the pit gesturing to Sawyer while speaking to Sayid, "Watch him."
Sayid smirked and thatched another branch to his assemblage, "Of course."
Sawyer turned to watch Jack’s quick stride down the beach in wide eyed amusement, "Y’think he doesn’t trust me for some reason."
"I can’t imagine why." The Iraqi volleyed back.
Sawyer blinked owlishly as he reached for the shovel, and jumped feet first into the burial pit, "Aw c’mon now! I’ve been very reliable lately! I’m doin’ my community service!"
Sayid fell silent for a long moment and after such a moment passed Sawyer quietly contented himself with the duty of digging the gravesite. The Iraqi was a bit surprised that the Southerner with the loud mouth could do something for once that wasn’t completely self-serving.
Five minutes of digging turned into ten.
Ten minutes of thatching turned into twenty.
Twenty minutes soon became thirty, then fourty.
Sayid paused in his thatching to nibble a splinter out from under his fingernail, Sawyer glanced up from shoveling and just laughed loudly, "How’s that for irony?" inquired the Southerner grinning from ear to ear.
The Iraqi continued to nibble at his fingernail, trying to capture the errant splinter between his teeth, "Ironic, indeed. I suppose Claire’s baby did have something wrong with him. Jack’s been gone some time."
Sawyer shoveled more dirt, "My guess is he sat down finally and crashed. Holding babies has a way of soothing the soul, you might say."
Sayid smiled in-between looking frustrated at his finger, "Nothing was wrong with the baby was there?"
"Nope." The Southerner chimed hefting another shovel full of dirt over his shoulder, he stopped a moment later to peek at Sayid suffering through his mishap with a single bamboo splinter. "Sweet JESUS you’re an EMBARASSMENT to Terrorist Scum EVERYWHERE!"
Sawyer quickly hopped out of the pit and rushed to the Iraqi’s side, seizing the man’s injured hand. Sayid quirked a brow, "What are you---?" he couldn’t finish his words as Sawyer popped the injured fingertip into his mouth and gave a long, hard suck.
Two seconds later Sawyer turned his head to spit out the offending splinter and a small amount of blood over the grass, "And the Brit calls ME a sissy."
Not to be outdone, Sayid merely smirks, taking back his hand and continuing his work. Sawyer remained standing over him for a moment longer, "What? You don’t want a Cookie Monster band-aid?" the American chided.
Sayid continued to weave the palm fronds, "I’m afraid our cross hemisphere difference is showing. What is a cookie monster?"
Sawyer’s jaw fell slack, "Cookie Monster. Muppets? A little blue furry guy that ravenously devoured cookies? Aw c’mon man! Ya GOTTA know Sesame Street!"
A confused expression crossed the Iraqi’s face, he stared mutely as Sawyer went on signing an odd little ditty where the main lyrics were ‘C is for ‘Cookie’’ finally Sayid barked, "ENOUGH."
Sawyer froze as Sayid continued, his expression stern, "Are you digging or not?"
The blond man nodded once, "Right.... Right... Back to work..." he said softly and jumped back into the pit, quietly shoveling dirt.
"He’s staying here y’know." Sawyer stated after five minutes of blissful silence, but this time his tone reflected the task at hand.
Sayid glanced across the way as he thatched more branches, the Castaway turned Gravedigger continued in his thoughts, "Y’know... after we get rescued... and whenever the hell that is.... He’s going to stay here. Alone."
The Iraqi smirked deviously then, "Perhaps he would prefer the silence over your constantly moving mouth."
"Oh fuck you, Mohammed! He has family out there that probably thinks he’s still alive! He has family HERE that has to get used to the notion of life without him!" Sawyer’s tone was harsh, but unsteady, Sayid put down his project to watch the man flounder for words.
"There’s no one out there for you is there Sawyer? You’re afraid you’re going to die here too, aren’t you?" Sayid asked ever so softly.
Sawyer tossed his head back with a forced laugh, "THAT is where you’d be wrong. I KNOW I’m going to die here."
It was the Iraqi’s turn to stare in a wide-eyed fashion, after a moment of thought he answers; "I think my life would be a little more empty without you in it." He offers a smile.
The Southerner snorts a laugh, "Shouldn’t you be telling that to your little Beach Bunny?"
"I’d tell that to all of the castaways. We need each other right now, especially in a time like this." Sayid states with finality in his tone.
A grin cracks across Sawyer’s face, "I can just FEEL my heart go all a’twitter!"
"Are you digging or running your mouth again?" The Iraqi glares.
"Fuckin’ slave driver! Let my people GO, Ramses!" Sawyer retorts before setting back to his duty.
Finally peace had come at last, the two worked in harmonious silence for thirty more minutes. The sun had begun to set over the ocean and the pit that Sawyer finished up digging was just above his shoulders, Sayid likewise was finishing up his little project and put it down to help his comrade out of the hole. Once Sawyer was back above ground he turned to see just what it was the Iraqi was working on all this time placed at the head of the grave.
Sawyer’s eyes stung, as he quickly blinked away the tears, Sayid watched the reaction of the taller man, "Can you read it?" asked the Iraqi.
The blond was silent of a long moment and then cleared his throat, "Peace Be With You" he read the words woven in the branches and palm fronds of the grave marker.
Sayid raised a hand to pat Sawyer on the back, "Come on. We should get some rest, the funeral’s tomorrow." And then turned away to take his leave.
"Sayid?" Sawyer called at the man’s back, Sayid halted in his steps, the Southerner cleared his throat again, "Will you make one for me? When I die?"
Sayid smiled and laughed softly, "No, Sawyer. I won’t."
Sawyer frowned, "Wha--?!" but he was cut off when Sayid answered, "Because I’m not going to let you die here." He turned around to face the American, the sun at his back:
"My life would be that much more empty without you."
Fandom: Lost
Characters: Sawyer and Sayid, and a guest spot from Jack.
Theme: 35 -- Gravestone
Leitmotif (when applicable): What happens on Mystery Island STAYS on Mystery Island
Warnings/Ratings: PG-13 for language. I won't say for certain if the semi-homosexual undercurrents were intentional or not but they just sorta came out that way. XD Two VERY heavy spoilers from Episode 20 'Do No Harm' is the setting for this secenario, if you watch TV or read any entertainment mags you more than likely know exactly what they are. There's hints of other motifs from other episodes but either you get it or you don't. XD
Synopsis: Sawyer and Sayid two of the fourty eight survivors of the doomed Oceanic Flight 815, their friendship is an uneasy one and thier rivalry is bitter, but they always seem to come through for one another in a pinch. Now in the time has come to bury one of their own, and the two Castaways have very different ideas on how to honor his memory. Yes folks there's a bit of angst in here. 6.6
PS: Don't laugh. ._.
‘It’s my responsibility to bury him’
Jack’s somber words echoed inside Sayid’s mind as he worked in silence just a few paces away from where one of their own would be put in final rest. The pit was up to Jack’s waist, a stolen glance every so often let the Iraqi know the Good Doctor was no longer playing the part of ‘Good Doctor’ but mourning friend as the tears rolled freely down his cheeks mingling with the sweat. Sayid said nothing, mourning in his own way, continuing to quietly thatch branches together with palm fronds. It’s this moment in time that the former Communications Officer instead turning his talent for constructing devious gadgets, using it for an artful construct.
Their comrade deserves the best, despite the dire situation; he will have a proper burial.
Jack scooped up another foot of sand, and then stabbed the shovel into the earth, leaning on it for support and wiping the muddied dust from his eyes. He cleared his throat and waited a few moments staring off down the coastline and beyond.
"You need rest, Jack. You look like hell." Sayid spoke up without turning from his diligent work.
"I-I-" the Doctor’s voice cracked as he panted for breath before he cleared his throat a second time. "I NEED to finish this, Sayid. I WILL--"
"I’ll take it from here." Came the familiar Southern accented voice from just over the nearby sand dunes.
Both Jack and Sayid blinked to turn their attention to the interloper, a taller wiry man with equally wiry blond hair that was always in his eyes. He stood towering over them at the top of the sand dune with his thumbs hooked through his jean belt loops, "Well. How about it?" he inquired somberly.
Jack and Sayid exchanged glances, Jack spoke first, "I thought you were taking guard duty over at the raft site, Sawyer?"
Sawyer shrugged his shoulders in a childlike fashion, "I was. I got to chapter twenty five in A Wrinkle In Time when Claire’s son started bawlin’ his little eyes out," he pulls out the pair of jury-rigged glasses from his pocket and uses them like a pointer, "It’s bad enough that I gotta wear these things while I read so I don’t get a headache BUT my ears and the innards of my skull are not so finely attuned to screaming babies with cholera."
Jack narrowed his eyes, "Babies get colic, Sawyer. Besides Claire’s baby is perfectly healthy for being born on a deserted island."
Sayid spoke up then, "Perhaps it would help if you went to check on her Jack. After all you are the only licensed physician on the island." The Iraqi smiled softly.
Jack paused, looking between the two men, stubbornly setting his jaw, "All right. Fine. I’ll go. I’ll be back in twenty minutes." The Doctor climbed out of the pit gesturing to Sawyer while speaking to Sayid, "Watch him."
Sayid smirked and thatched another branch to his assemblage, "Of course."
Sawyer turned to watch Jack’s quick stride down the beach in wide eyed amusement, "Y’think he doesn’t trust me for some reason."
"I can’t imagine why." The Iraqi volleyed back.
Sawyer blinked owlishly as he reached for the shovel, and jumped feet first into the burial pit, "Aw c’mon now! I’ve been very reliable lately! I’m doin’ my community service!"
Sayid fell silent for a long moment and after such a moment passed Sawyer quietly contented himself with the duty of digging the gravesite. The Iraqi was a bit surprised that the Southerner with the loud mouth could do something for once that wasn’t completely self-serving.
Five minutes of digging turned into ten.
Ten minutes of thatching turned into twenty.
Twenty minutes soon became thirty, then fourty.
Sayid paused in his thatching to nibble a splinter out from under his fingernail, Sawyer glanced up from shoveling and just laughed loudly, "How’s that for irony?" inquired the Southerner grinning from ear to ear.
The Iraqi continued to nibble at his fingernail, trying to capture the errant splinter between his teeth, "Ironic, indeed. I suppose Claire’s baby did have something wrong with him. Jack’s been gone some time."
Sawyer shoveled more dirt, "My guess is he sat down finally and crashed. Holding babies has a way of soothing the soul, you might say."
Sayid smiled in-between looking frustrated at his finger, "Nothing was wrong with the baby was there?"
"Nope." The Southerner chimed hefting another shovel full of dirt over his shoulder, he stopped a moment later to peek at Sayid suffering through his mishap with a single bamboo splinter. "Sweet JESUS you’re an EMBARASSMENT to Terrorist Scum EVERYWHERE!"
Sawyer quickly hopped out of the pit and rushed to the Iraqi’s side, seizing the man’s injured hand. Sayid quirked a brow, "What are you---?" he couldn’t finish his words as Sawyer popped the injured fingertip into his mouth and gave a long, hard suck.
Two seconds later Sawyer turned his head to spit out the offending splinter and a small amount of blood over the grass, "And the Brit calls ME a sissy."
Not to be outdone, Sayid merely smirks, taking back his hand and continuing his work. Sawyer remained standing over him for a moment longer, "What? You don’t want a Cookie Monster band-aid?" the American chided.
Sayid continued to weave the palm fronds, "I’m afraid our cross hemisphere difference is showing. What is a cookie monster?"
Sawyer’s jaw fell slack, "Cookie Monster. Muppets? A little blue furry guy that ravenously devoured cookies? Aw c’mon man! Ya GOTTA know Sesame Street!"
A confused expression crossed the Iraqi’s face, he stared mutely as Sawyer went on signing an odd little ditty where the main lyrics were ‘C is for ‘Cookie’’ finally Sayid barked, "ENOUGH."
Sawyer froze as Sayid continued, his expression stern, "Are you digging or not?"
The blond man nodded once, "Right.... Right... Back to work..." he said softly and jumped back into the pit, quietly shoveling dirt.
"He’s staying here y’know." Sawyer stated after five minutes of blissful silence, but this time his tone reflected the task at hand.
Sayid glanced across the way as he thatched more branches, the Castaway turned Gravedigger continued in his thoughts, "Y’know... after we get rescued... and whenever the hell that is.... He’s going to stay here. Alone."
The Iraqi smirked deviously then, "Perhaps he would prefer the silence over your constantly moving mouth."
"Oh fuck you, Mohammed! He has family out there that probably thinks he’s still alive! He has family HERE that has to get used to the notion of life without him!" Sawyer’s tone was harsh, but unsteady, Sayid put down his project to watch the man flounder for words.
"There’s no one out there for you is there Sawyer? You’re afraid you’re going to die here too, aren’t you?" Sayid asked ever so softly.
Sawyer tossed his head back with a forced laugh, "THAT is where you’d be wrong. I KNOW I’m going to die here."
It was the Iraqi’s turn to stare in a wide-eyed fashion, after a moment of thought he answers; "I think my life would be a little more empty without you in it." He offers a smile.
The Southerner snorts a laugh, "Shouldn’t you be telling that to your little Beach Bunny?"
"I’d tell that to all of the castaways. We need each other right now, especially in a time like this." Sayid states with finality in his tone.
A grin cracks across Sawyer’s face, "I can just FEEL my heart go all a’twitter!"
"Are you digging or running your mouth again?" The Iraqi glares.
"Fuckin’ slave driver! Let my people GO, Ramses!" Sawyer retorts before setting back to his duty.
Finally peace had come at last, the two worked in harmonious silence for thirty more minutes. The sun had begun to set over the ocean and the pit that Sawyer finished up digging was just above his shoulders, Sayid likewise was finishing up his little project and put it down to help his comrade out of the hole. Once Sawyer was back above ground he turned to see just what it was the Iraqi was working on all this time placed at the head of the grave.
Sawyer’s eyes stung, as he quickly blinked away the tears, Sayid watched the reaction of the taller man, "Can you read it?" asked the Iraqi.
The blond was silent of a long moment and then cleared his throat, "Peace Be With You" he read the words woven in the branches and palm fronds of the grave marker.
Sayid raised a hand to pat Sawyer on the back, "Come on. We should get some rest, the funeral’s tomorrow." And then turned away to take his leave.
"Sayid?" Sawyer called at the man’s back, Sayid halted in his steps, the Southerner cleared his throat again, "Will you make one for me? When I die?"
Sayid smiled and laughed softly, "No, Sawyer. I won’t."
Sawyer frowned, "Wha--?!" but he was cut off when Sayid answered, "Because I’m not going to let you die here." He turned around to face the American, the sun at his back:
"My life would be that much more empty without you."