LESS THAN TWO WEEKS.
Yeah, so, I started this yesterday out of nowhere and it began as one thing and wrote itself into another and I don't feel like doing the whole breakdown but I will and have you SEEN the new promo they just aired on ABC???
Yes. Of COURSE you have.
I HAVE FIC!
Title: Die 4 U (Purple Rain Remix)
Characters: Jack/Sawyer!
Rating: No porn, but it's still R! Not happy at all!
Word Count: 1,170
Spoilers: Only spoilers I know would be from ^ that, so nothing massive!
Disclaimer: Don't own Lost. Oh, well.
A/N: Songfic! (kinda, I dunno) Captivity fic! For holycitygirl, OK'd by inthekeyofd! It pry really sucks and I don't expect anyone to read because I haven't in a month, but here's SOMETHING! I'll stop now!
...but I'm EXCITEDOMGYAY!!!
[I am something that U'll never comprehend ]
He’s not in the dark, no, he’s in the light, and it burns his eyes the way an all encompassing darkness can not. Instead of quiet crevices, dark recesses to curl into, flatten against and become a part of, he has this: brutal, blinding light, exposing every flaw, every mistake, no matter how hard he tries to mask it behind a dimpled façade.
The quickening of his pulse when they drag him by, dangle Jack in front of him, on the other side, just out of reach, comes just as naturally as that grin. But they no longer occur at once.
[I'm not your lover ]
It’s a test. Sawyer is bright enough to recognize that. The irony of being behind bars is not lost on him, but at the same time, he finds that it doesn’t matter. He has nowhere to go.
And when they settle Jack into the prison beside him, he finds he doesn’t want to anyways.
[I'm not your friend ]
“Got you good, didn’t they Doc?” Sawyer ventures, dripping his words in bitterness, spitting out sharp jabs, the usual, the standard. He fears how desperate he is to puncture the silence.
They did something to him - Jack. Drugged him or broke his spirit or something because he just sits there, mute. Sawyer runs his gaze over Jack’s body, searching for scars, wounds, a physical explanation, but he finds none.
“Open your mouth, Jackass,” he orders, the crack in his voice catching him off guard. His heart catches in his throat, an unsolicited fear that they must have ripped the tongue right out of Jack’s mouth for him to be so damn quiet.
The dark claws that have been shredding Sawyer’s gut rip towards his brain and press against his skull, a dull, throbbing ache.
[I am something that U'll never understand ]
They come again at night, slide a tray of off-white mush through the designated slit. There’s a laugh, deep and cruel, when Jack doesn’t move to touch his food, a click of pen, quick notes jotted on clipboard. Sawyer glares.
“Somethin’ funny, Igor?” He paces up to the bars, staring the man down.
The guy simply tilts his head, peering at Sawyer like a bug under a microscope before biting back a smug grin and walking away.
“Hey…eat up, Dr. Chuckles. If not, Imma steal your hot delicious supper.” He tries for cheerful obnoxiousness, but it comes out flat, tired.
Jack is as immobile as stone, and the pain in Sawyer’s gut rivals that in his temples.
[U're just a sinner I am told ]
“I fucked her,” Sawyer hisses, the sun warmed metal burning his palms. He presses his face against the bars, lets the heat scorch against his cheeks, bites out phrases in short bursts. “They put us in a room, told me if I didn’t do it, they kill her. So I did. I did it and she cried and she cried out for you and then she came, Jack. She came for me with your name on her lips.”
He thinks he sees a flicker, a dark flare of anger flash through Jack’s eyes, and Sawyer looks down, the shame and memory coursing through him. The victory of finally getting a rise from Jack is hollow. That Machiavelli shit was full of crap.
He can’t tell Jack that he had echoed her cry.
[I'm your messiah and U're the reason why ]
Sawyer mumbles his name now, disperses it through his monologue. Jack is only three feet to the left but he’s a million miles away. Although he still refuses to move or eat or utter a single fucking word, Jack’s eyes follow Sawyer and for that he is glad. Still…
It’s not the same. There has been a shift and Sawyer feels like he’s falling headfirst off a cliff, arms flailing wildly as he scrambles to wrap his hands around a branch, a rock, anything to stop his descent.
The only rock he’s ever had sits there still, just out of reach, cracked and broken inside an impenetrable shell.
Sawyer bangs his head against it anyways. What does it matter if he bleeds in the process?
[And if U're evil I'll forgive U by and by ]
“So I tracked this guy down, this monster, this…guy…and killed him.” Sawyer raises his eyes, glancing from under the curtain of hair that partially obscures them, waiting. A choked huff rises from his chest. “Only it wasn’t the guy I’d been looking for. It was just some poor sap who pissed in the wrong guy’s soup.”
Jack doesn’t even blink, and the lack of reaction send Sawyer into his own spiral of anger and rage.
“And now, you hear me Jack? Instead of one man, I have a list.”
He tears his eyes from the statue of a man before him and turns away, curls into himself in the furthest corner of his cage, and hides within the single shadow that stretches there.
The list grows.
[No need 2 worry, No need 2 cry ]
“She’s dead.”
The sound of Jack’s voice - at last - rips through the silence like a bolt of lightning. The aftershock of his words hang in the air, a low rumbling thunder that rings in Sawyer’s ears.
Jack swallows, the muscles in his throat tight and strained, and when their eyes finally meet, the hollow wells that Jack’s eyes have been for days are overflowing with tears.
“I couldn’t do it,” he whispers.
Sawyer can barely hear the words over the pounding in his head, but he fights through the pain to hold Jack’s gaze, a phantom touch and comfort, and lets the silence settle back over them like a blanket.
[I would die 4 U, yeah ]
They come, sudden as always, and pull them both from their prisons, shove them in a tiny room, full blast showers washing away dirt and grime. Jack shivers beneath the shower’s stream.
Sawyer’s seen enough specials on the History channel, read enough Holocaust memoirs to know that the sheer terror rushing through him is not unfounded. He beats it down, but the force of it threatens to overtake him.
There was once a time when he was prepared to die, would have welcomed the reaper with open arms and a bottle of Jim Beam, with no regrets and nothing to live for. It allowed him to be reckless, wild, and larger than life itself.
He glimpses Jack out the corner of his eye and knows fear.
[I'm your conscience, I am love ]
It's the same as before. The Room.
If you don’t, he’ll die
The threat echoes in Sawyer’s ears, ringing through his soul with a sudden clarity. The vowels and sounds trip over themselves as the empty spot inside him grows and fills.
If he doesn’t, he’ll die.
Sawyer reaches out, envelopes Jack. The fall will likely kill them both.
[All I really need is 2 know is that U believe (Yeah) ]
Yes. Of COURSE you have.
I HAVE FIC!
Title: Die 4 U (Purple Rain Remix)
Characters: Jack/Sawyer!
Rating: No porn, but it's still R! Not happy at all!
Word Count: 1,170
Spoilers: Only spoilers I know would be from ^ that, so nothing massive!
Disclaimer: Don't own Lost. Oh, well.
A/N: Songfic! (kinda, I dunno) Captivity fic! For holycitygirl, OK'd by inthekeyofd! It pry really sucks and I don't expect anyone to read because I haven't in a month, but here's SOMETHING! I'll stop now!
...but I'm EXCITEDOMGYAY!!!
[I am something that U'll never comprehend ]
He’s not in the dark, no, he’s in the light, and it burns his eyes the way an all encompassing darkness can not. Instead of quiet crevices, dark recesses to curl into, flatten against and become a part of, he has this: brutal, blinding light, exposing every flaw, every mistake, no matter how hard he tries to mask it behind a dimpled façade.
The quickening of his pulse when they drag him by, dangle Jack in front of him, on the other side, just out of reach, comes just as naturally as that grin. But they no longer occur at once.
[I'm not your lover ]
It’s a test. Sawyer is bright enough to recognize that. The irony of being behind bars is not lost on him, but at the same time, he finds that it doesn’t matter. He has nowhere to go.
And when they settle Jack into the prison beside him, he finds he doesn’t want to anyways.
[I'm not your friend ]
“Got you good, didn’t they Doc?” Sawyer ventures, dripping his words in bitterness, spitting out sharp jabs, the usual, the standard. He fears how desperate he is to puncture the silence.
They did something to him - Jack. Drugged him or broke his spirit or something because he just sits there, mute. Sawyer runs his gaze over Jack’s body, searching for scars, wounds, a physical explanation, but he finds none.
“Open your mouth, Jackass,” he orders, the crack in his voice catching him off guard. His heart catches in his throat, an unsolicited fear that they must have ripped the tongue right out of Jack’s mouth for him to be so damn quiet.
The dark claws that have been shredding Sawyer’s gut rip towards his brain and press against his skull, a dull, throbbing ache.
[I am something that U'll never understand ]
They come again at night, slide a tray of off-white mush through the designated slit. There’s a laugh, deep and cruel, when Jack doesn’t move to touch his food, a click of pen, quick notes jotted on clipboard. Sawyer glares.
“Somethin’ funny, Igor?” He paces up to the bars, staring the man down.
The guy simply tilts his head, peering at Sawyer like a bug under a microscope before biting back a smug grin and walking away.
“Hey…eat up, Dr. Chuckles. If not, Imma steal your hot delicious supper.” He tries for cheerful obnoxiousness, but it comes out flat, tired.
Jack is as immobile as stone, and the pain in Sawyer’s gut rivals that in his temples.
[U're just a sinner I am told ]
“I fucked her,” Sawyer hisses, the sun warmed metal burning his palms. He presses his face against the bars, lets the heat scorch against his cheeks, bites out phrases in short bursts. “They put us in a room, told me if I didn’t do it, they kill her. So I did. I did it and she cried and she cried out for you and then she came, Jack. She came for me with your name on her lips.”
He thinks he sees a flicker, a dark flare of anger flash through Jack’s eyes, and Sawyer looks down, the shame and memory coursing through him. The victory of finally getting a rise from Jack is hollow. That Machiavelli shit was full of crap.
He can’t tell Jack that he had echoed her cry.
[I'm your messiah and U're the reason why ]
Sawyer mumbles his name now, disperses it through his monologue. Jack is only three feet to the left but he’s a million miles away. Although he still refuses to move or eat or utter a single fucking word, Jack’s eyes follow Sawyer and for that he is glad. Still…
It’s not the same. There has been a shift and Sawyer feels like he’s falling headfirst off a cliff, arms flailing wildly as he scrambles to wrap his hands around a branch, a rock, anything to stop his descent.
The only rock he’s ever had sits there still, just out of reach, cracked and broken inside an impenetrable shell.
Sawyer bangs his head against it anyways. What does it matter if he bleeds in the process?
[And if U're evil I'll forgive U by and by ]
“So I tracked this guy down, this monster, this…guy…and killed him.” Sawyer raises his eyes, glancing from under the curtain of hair that partially obscures them, waiting. A choked huff rises from his chest. “Only it wasn’t the guy I’d been looking for. It was just some poor sap who pissed in the wrong guy’s soup.”
Jack doesn’t even blink, and the lack of reaction send Sawyer into his own spiral of anger and rage.
“And now, you hear me Jack? Instead of one man, I have a list.”
He tears his eyes from the statue of a man before him and turns away, curls into himself in the furthest corner of his cage, and hides within the single shadow that stretches there.
The list grows.
[No need 2 worry, No need 2 cry ]
“She’s dead.”
The sound of Jack’s voice - at last - rips through the silence like a bolt of lightning. The aftershock of his words hang in the air, a low rumbling thunder that rings in Sawyer’s ears.
Jack swallows, the muscles in his throat tight and strained, and when their eyes finally meet, the hollow wells that Jack’s eyes have been for days are overflowing with tears.
“I couldn’t do it,” he whispers.
Sawyer can barely hear the words over the pounding in his head, but he fights through the pain to hold Jack’s gaze, a phantom touch and comfort, and lets the silence settle back over them like a blanket.
[I would die 4 U, yeah ]
They come, sudden as always, and pull them both from their prisons, shove them in a tiny room, full blast showers washing away dirt and grime. Jack shivers beneath the shower’s stream.
Sawyer’s seen enough specials on the History channel, read enough Holocaust memoirs to know that the sheer terror rushing through him is not unfounded. He beats it down, but the force of it threatens to overtake him.
There was once a time when he was prepared to die, would have welcomed the reaper with open arms and a bottle of Jim Beam, with no regrets and nothing to live for. It allowed him to be reckless, wild, and larger than life itself.
He glimpses Jack out the corner of his eye and knows fear.
[I'm your conscience, I am love ]
It's the same as before. The Room.
If you don’t, he’ll die
The threat echoes in Sawyer’s ears, ringing through his soul with a sudden clarity. The vowels and sounds trip over themselves as the empty spot inside him grows and fills.
If he doesn’t, he’ll die.
Sawyer reaches out, envelopes Jack. The fall will likely kill them both.
[All I really need is 2 know is that U believe (Yeah) ]