Lost fic: Sealed [Jack/Sawyer, PG]
Summary: Some things can't be fixed with a kiss
Notes: Written before the finale, please note. Using for fanfic100 #75, Shade and psych_30 #25, Placebo effect.
Sealed
by eponine119
May 17, 2007
A cool breeze wafts, the only sign that the world is not dead and gone, save for the miniscule back and forth of the old wooden rocker. He can move it with nothing more than the subtle motion of his body. The bare soles of his feet stretch out before him, rough heels resting against the uneven plans of the porch. Every so often his arm lifts languidly, fingers hovering as he sucks all the life from the page and contemplates it before exposing the next.
This is his safe place in the world, not just on the rough hewn porch overlooking the mountains, but within the confinement of the covers of this book, where nothing can touch him but words, and even those will bounce off if he wants them to.
The peace and the silence is broken by sounds from inside. The angry rattle of dishes; the scream of water rushing from the faucet. Sawyer's face tightens and he can feel the unflexible steel clamping down within his shoulders. He digs deeper into his book. He rocks a little faster.
The door opens behind him. He can feel the trickle of warmth from inside. He doesn't look up, even though the other world has abandoned him now. Words swim nonsensically on the page, meaningless. He is angry.
Ice rattles softly against glass. Once, and then it stills. Jack is the only man who can stop ice cubes from shifting in a pool of scotch by sheer force of will.
Sawyer wants to lash out. So he keeps his eyes on the shifting letters and breathes hard through his nose. Hands clutching the pages.
He hears Jack swallow. Then sigh. His eyes will be closed now, head tipped faintly back, letting the alcohol rain through him. Sawyer thinks of the soft, tender places and how easily he could dug in and hurt them.
His head drops another notch, so close the page fills his vision. But that peaceful world is gone now. He can't get it back. The ache of loneliness swells through him.
"I won't stop." Jack's words are as stubborn as they ever were on the island.
Sawyer can't believe Jack thinks this fight is about the phone bill. Instead he sulks, nose drifting closer to the spine.
"You'll give yourself a headache."
"Stop fussin' over me." Jack makes a swipe for his book and Sawyer deflects it. "I didn't rag at you for drinkin' like you always do."
Jack drinks and Sawyer reads. They both need to escape.
He turns his head and he can see that Jack's lonely too. That's why he calls her, late at night, fingers driven to touch the numbers with secret compulsion. She's the woman that Sawyer's had and he never will.
Sawyer's lips brush against Jack's temple. It won't solve the problem forever, but it'll solve the problem for tonight.
End
Notes: Written before the finale, please note. Using for fanfic100 #75, Shade and psych_30 #25, Placebo effect.
Sealed
by eponine119
May 17, 2007
A cool breeze wafts, the only sign that the world is not dead and gone, save for the miniscule back and forth of the old wooden rocker. He can move it with nothing more than the subtle motion of his body. The bare soles of his feet stretch out before him, rough heels resting against the uneven plans of the porch. Every so often his arm lifts languidly, fingers hovering as he sucks all the life from the page and contemplates it before exposing the next.
This is his safe place in the world, not just on the rough hewn porch overlooking the mountains, but within the confinement of the covers of this book, where nothing can touch him but words, and even those will bounce off if he wants them to.
The peace and the silence is broken by sounds from inside. The angry rattle of dishes; the scream of water rushing from the faucet. Sawyer's face tightens and he can feel the unflexible steel clamping down within his shoulders. He digs deeper into his book. He rocks a little faster.
The door opens behind him. He can feel the trickle of warmth from inside. He doesn't look up, even though the other world has abandoned him now. Words swim nonsensically on the page, meaningless. He is angry.
Ice rattles softly against glass. Once, and then it stills. Jack is the only man who can stop ice cubes from shifting in a pool of scotch by sheer force of will.
Sawyer wants to lash out. So he keeps his eyes on the shifting letters and breathes hard through his nose. Hands clutching the pages.
He hears Jack swallow. Then sigh. His eyes will be closed now, head tipped faintly back, letting the alcohol rain through him. Sawyer thinks of the soft, tender places and how easily he could dug in and hurt them.
His head drops another notch, so close the page fills his vision. But that peaceful world is gone now. He can't get it back. The ache of loneliness swells through him.
"I won't stop." Jack's words are as stubborn as they ever were on the island.
Sawyer can't believe Jack thinks this fight is about the phone bill. Instead he sulks, nose drifting closer to the spine.
"You'll give yourself a headache."
"Stop fussin' over me." Jack makes a swipe for his book and Sawyer deflects it. "I didn't rag at you for drinkin' like you always do."
Jack drinks and Sawyer reads. They both need to escape.
He turns his head and he can see that Jack's lonely too. That's why he calls her, late at night, fingers driven to touch the numbers with secret compulsion. She's the woman that Sawyer's had and he never will.
Sawyer's lips brush against Jack's temple. It won't solve the problem forever, but it'll solve the problem for tonight.
End