(no subject)
Could use a little cheering up...its not only that time of the month when emotionally my body decides to go straight to mopey mode, but things just haven't been going my way this last day.
Thus:
❝WRITE MY PROFILE!❞
Also I wrote the Jack/Boone story FINALLY for janie_tangerine 's luau gift! Sorry for the long wait hon-I hope you like it!
When they someday tell their children how they met, when the adoption papers finally go through and the state finally stops being biased and their twin girls grow up to the age where they can understand mysterious islands and repeating numbers and uncharted waters, there are many parts Jack and Boone will leave out.
They will never tell them that monsters can be in the air as well as under the bed, or how easy it is to get lost somewhere where you are almost never found.
And they will never tell them that for ten minutes, Jack thought Boone was dead.
That he sobbed over Boone's beaten body, closed his eyes with tender trembling fingers.
How Jack passed out from exhaustion and blood loss and deep grief, awoke to Boone's hand on his cheek, open eyes linked to his, lips already meeting his own in quiet reassurance. How Jack sobbed until he couldn't breathe, held so tightly to Boone he left new bruises, handprints on his back from clutching so hard. One has still remained, though all other injuries have healed, a perfect outline of Jack's hand still imprinted on Boone's smooth, unscarred back.
What they will tell their daughters though, is about miracles and magic. That they happen, that love conquers all, cuts disappear and broken ribs heal, and blood flows again, and you lose all the hurt, and keep only the comfort, the hands that pulled you out of death and loved you back to life.
Thus:
❝WRITE MY PROFILE!❞
Also I wrote the Jack/Boone story FINALLY for janie_tangerine 's luau gift! Sorry for the long wait hon-I hope you like it!
When they someday tell their children how they met, when the adoption papers finally go through and the state finally stops being biased and their twin girls grow up to the age where they can understand mysterious islands and repeating numbers and uncharted waters, there are many parts Jack and Boone will leave out.
They will never tell them that monsters can be in the air as well as under the bed, or how easy it is to get lost somewhere where you are almost never found.
And they will never tell them that for ten minutes, Jack thought Boone was dead.
That he sobbed over Boone's beaten body, closed his eyes with tender trembling fingers.
How Jack passed out from exhaustion and blood loss and deep grief, awoke to Boone's hand on his cheek, open eyes linked to his, lips already meeting his own in quiet reassurance. How Jack sobbed until he couldn't breathe, held so tightly to Boone he left new bruises, handprints on his back from clutching so hard. One has still remained, though all other injuries have healed, a perfect outline of Jack's hand still imprinted on Boone's smooth, unscarred back.
What they will tell their daughters though, is about miracles and magic. That they happen, that love conquers all, cuts disappear and broken ribs heal, and blood flows again, and you lose all the hurt, and keep only the comfort, the hands that pulled you out of death and loved you back to life.