fic: 4 ficlets for the alphabet meme. (lost & fringe)
- note: sorry for this guys, they were written at 3am after Easter is all I can say. I had to post them now 'cause otherwise I wouldn't post them at all.
a change of scene. e is for eden. lost, jack/ana. for mollivanders. apocalypse au (lol). slight crossover with fringe. 239 words. pg-13. (excuse me if this is not really either romantic or them. to be honest, i had trouble remembering what their relationship was like.)
-
There's only room for one world and apparently, it's not his.
This is after the war: he finds a corner, sits. Old habits die hard. His head is still spinning and he'd rather be inside the shelter (a shelter, they call it, for war prisoners. Eden 2. He tries to laugh but it burns like alcohol in his throat. He should have died on that island) because the world outside is white with desolation, and too bright. Always too bright.
Juliet is five gurneys to his right, treating injured patients - doctors and scientists, people they can use to get technology from the losing side. She said, we're not savages, Jack, in this lifetime or the other, he's sure.
They put him in a cage because he refuses to cooperate (it's not a matter of principle, you see) and he could laugh. Footsteps come down the hall, should he even guess who it is?
Ana brings him food (the first day, the second day, the third day), a smile and a reprimand. Attempts to be nice and attempts to be rough and he doesn't tell her that the uniform looks right on her, or that none of this is gonna work. She throws down the plate with his sandwich one day (it breaks two feet to his right), says "What the fuck is this?" and "We all deserve a fresh start."
Jack wants to laugh. Doesn't tell her, still.
she'd rather be scarred than be scarred with love. v is for vendetta. lost, richard and juliet. for mollivanders, also for sacred_20 - faith. 139 words. light r. au.
-
She breaks the mirrors at the lighthouse; Hurley yells, Richard closes his eyes. That's not how you get back at him.
"I know," she tells him and throws the shotgun over her shoulder. "That was for me."
He'd rather have her as an ally than as an enemy, but not by a very long margin.
They sit by the fire one night (countless nights) and he catches her staring at Jack - wonders, you don't hate him? She looks straight ahead, "James made his own decisions," turns to him, "he was all grown up," a little patronizing, blue eyes ablaze.
She still kills him, anyway. Jack. And looks at Locke, says "you can go now".
They're both past believing any of this, past worrying about consequences. He knows there's one more bullet in her shotgun.
He wonders who it's for.
hidden. s is for shoebox. lost, james/juliet - for sadie_carter. also for sacred20 - reverent. 182 words. pg. spoilers for the substitute.
-
Sawyer writes only one letter in his entire life (Dear Mr. Sawyer, you don't know who I am but I know who you are -).
It stays in his pocket, thirty years, and is torn up in the hands of a man who isn't worth one crick in a child's handwriting.
James stumbles around the house - thirty years, not his home - it's hard to find any trace that they once lived there. But he does: kicks the coffee table and finds a hair comb hiding behind it (he'd thrown it there, her legs had wrapped around him, he hadn't cared); one of her books in someone else's shelves.
He puts these things in the box, keeps the pictures, keeps the hair comb, drops the ring in the bottom of the very same ocean she wanted to escape.
(- and I know what you done.)
It stays shoved in the back of his bag and he fidgets his fingers against the edges of the cover when he thinks no one's looking, the paperboard crumpling every day a little more.
It's a love letter of sorts.
when I'm not there. p is for pedestrian. fringe, the bishops. for spyglass_. 189 words. g. post 2x16, Peter.
-
It begins: Peter won't close his eyes while Walter is in the room. And he tries, "you need to rest, my son", runs a hand over Peter's face (- the color is starting to come back) and feels the phantom of a flinch.
Peter takes his hand, but not without some reluctance, and they cross the street. Peter stares, open-eyed, at the ocean and Walter stares, open-eyed, at him. Everything about him is the same and everything about him is different, somehow. This Peter has never seen the ocean before.
They very nearly run into her on the other side, coincidence and chains of events that not even his science could ever explain. Carla, he says, doesn't stumble, won't. She shakes, smiles at the little boy, backs away.
Peter asks, "who was that?" and Walter frowns - "dad's assistant, son. You've met her before."
No, he hasn't.
On Peter's first day at school, eight years old, he lets go of Walter's hand and doesn't look back. Son, Walter calls, never stops repeating. Goes back to the lab, immerses himself in work.
He becomes the other Walter. But, Peter's father.
a change of scene. e is for eden. lost, jack/ana. for mollivanders. apocalypse au (lol). slight crossover with fringe. 239 words. pg-13. (excuse me if this is not really either romantic or them. to be honest, i had trouble remembering what their relationship was like.)
-
There's only room for one world and apparently, it's not his.
This is after the war: he finds a corner, sits. Old habits die hard. His head is still spinning and he'd rather be inside the shelter (a shelter, they call it, for war prisoners. Eden 2. He tries to laugh but it burns like alcohol in his throat. He should have died on that island) because the world outside is white with desolation, and too bright. Always too bright.
Juliet is five gurneys to his right, treating injured patients - doctors and scientists, people they can use to get technology from the losing side. She said, we're not savages, Jack, in this lifetime or the other, he's sure.
They put him in a cage because he refuses to cooperate (it's not a matter of principle, you see) and he could laugh. Footsteps come down the hall, should he even guess who it is?
Ana brings him food (the first day, the second day, the third day), a smile and a reprimand. Attempts to be nice and attempts to be rough and he doesn't tell her that the uniform looks right on her, or that none of this is gonna work. She throws down the plate with his sandwich one day (it breaks two feet to his right), says "What the fuck is this?" and "We all deserve a fresh start."
Jack wants to laugh. Doesn't tell her, still.
she'd rather be scarred than be scarred with love. v is for vendetta. lost, richard and juliet. for mollivanders, also for sacred_20 - faith. 139 words. light r. au.
-
She breaks the mirrors at the lighthouse; Hurley yells, Richard closes his eyes. That's not how you get back at him.
"I know," she tells him and throws the shotgun over her shoulder. "That was for me."
He'd rather have her as an ally than as an enemy, but not by a very long margin.
They sit by the fire one night (countless nights) and he catches her staring at Jack - wonders, you don't hate him? She looks straight ahead, "James made his own decisions," turns to him, "he was all grown up," a little patronizing, blue eyes ablaze.
She still kills him, anyway. Jack. And looks at Locke, says "you can go now".
They're both past believing any of this, past worrying about consequences. He knows there's one more bullet in her shotgun.
He wonders who it's for.
hidden. s is for shoebox. lost, james/juliet - for sadie_carter. also for sacred20 - reverent. 182 words. pg. spoilers for the substitute.
-
Sawyer writes only one letter in his entire life (Dear Mr. Sawyer, you don't know who I am but I know who you are -).
It stays in his pocket, thirty years, and is torn up in the hands of a man who isn't worth one crick in a child's handwriting.
James stumbles around the house - thirty years, not his home - it's hard to find any trace that they once lived there. But he does: kicks the coffee table and finds a hair comb hiding behind it (he'd thrown it there, her legs had wrapped around him, he hadn't cared); one of her books in someone else's shelves.
He puts these things in the box, keeps the pictures, keeps the hair comb, drops the ring in the bottom of the very same ocean she wanted to escape.
(- and I know what you done.)
It stays shoved in the back of his bag and he fidgets his fingers against the edges of the cover when he thinks no one's looking, the paperboard crumpling every day a little more.
It's a love letter of sorts.
when I'm not there. p is for pedestrian. fringe, the bishops. for spyglass_. 189 words. g. post 2x16, Peter.
-
It begins: Peter won't close his eyes while Walter is in the room. And he tries, "you need to rest, my son", runs a hand over Peter's face (- the color is starting to come back) and feels the phantom of a flinch.
Peter takes his hand, but not without some reluctance, and they cross the street. Peter stares, open-eyed, at the ocean and Walter stares, open-eyed, at him. Everything about him is the same and everything about him is different, somehow. This Peter has never seen the ocean before.
They very nearly run into her on the other side, coincidence and chains of events that not even his science could ever explain. Carla, he says, doesn't stumble, won't. She shakes, smiles at the little boy, backs away.
Peter asks, "who was that?" and Walter frowns - "dad's assistant, son. You've met her before."
No, he hasn't.
On Peter's first day at school, eight years old, he lets go of Walter's hand and doesn't look back. Son, Walter calls, never stops repeating. Goes back to the lab, immerses himself in work.
He becomes the other Walter. But, Peter's father.