Lost, Jack Shephard, 014 Green, 015 Blue PG
Title: Green
Fandom: Lost
Character: Jack Shephard
Prompt: 014: Green
Rating: PG
Summary: A simple dinner can go wrong.
Word Count: 430
Disclaimer: Lost belongs to J.J. Abrams and co. from Bad Robot and ABC.
Kate broke first, unable to fight the laugh bursting to make fun of her faults. A laugh from him soon followed; he was relieved it wouldn't look like he had immediately jumped to laugh at the failure of a dinner.
"It's soup," he said, encouraged by the life-span of her laughter, "how do you mess up cooking soup?"
Kate shrugged as she turned away, pouring the boiling soup into the sink, pink in the face from laughter.
"Maybe you should try sandwiches," he teased, "start with the basics: peanut butter and jelly. I've heard they're quite good."
"Shut up," Kate laughed, rolling her eyes, "maybe it was expired."
She began digging through a trashbag, looking for the empty soup can she had just thrown out.
"It was just tomato...vegetable...something or another soup," he said, "really. Just add water. It says so, right on the can."
He pointed to those exact words written beneath an expiration date reading '11/28/04'.
"That must mean another food drop's coming soon," Kate said, attempting to set aside her mistake by taking the simple black-and-white label on the can seriously, "and that this soup's been in here for God knows how long."
"If you say so."
He turned back to the collection of food on the counter as Kate threw the can away. The selections of soups and chips weren't anything out of the ordinary; the failed attempt at dinner left them with the choice of eating what was basically tomato sauce or what Dharma called 'Beef and Onion Vegetable Soup'. He grimaced at the thought of consuming the combination as a soup.
"It was just so green," Kate said, grinning again, "it's like it burnt or exploded."
"Maybe it killed itself just to be relieved of its horrible fate."
Kate rolled her eyes and began sorting through the food herself.
"I like how they assume what people like to eat," she commented. Her face contorted into disgust as she picked up a package of chicken tenders. "There are still vegetarians in this world."
Jack shrugged.
"I guess they figured you could be hunting boar anyway," he offered. She didn't look satisfied.
Shaking her head, Kate replaced the package. He saw her grin before he realized what she was excited about.
"'Dharma Frozen Cheese Pizza'," she read from the half-empty package, "can't be as bad as Dharma Frozen Broccoli."
"Maybe I should do the cooking this time," he said, taking the pizza from her.
"It's letting pizza heat in an oven, not cooking."
"Tell that to your poor, dead, vegetable soup. Or whatever that was supposed to be."
Title: Blue
Fandom: Lost
Character: Jack Shephard
Prompt: 015 Green
Rating: PG
Summary: That's when he realized how tired he was, how sick of the world he felt at that moment: school, his friend that betrayed him, the unnecessary amount of pressure that seemed to naturally come with this time of year.
Word Count: 721
Disclaimer: Lost belongs to J.J. Abrams and co. from Bad Robot and ABC.
"Why so blue?"
Jack managed a dry laugh, which was the least heavy of emotions he'd been able to conjure that afternoon. His father sat beside him on a chair across from him. Stars shone somewhere above them, blocked out by the khaki cover of their deck. Wearing a suit and smelling of sweat his father became an instant obstacle in his search for answers he'd been on since coming home from school five hours ago. An empty glass of lemonade sat by him; the only thing he'd found in the refrigerator.
His father had the decency not to bring one of his bottles out here, the ones he locked up containing the drink that would wash away whatever it was he was so despondent about when he walked through the door. Or maybe today was one of his few good days. It was unfair, he thought, that his father's problems could be solved with one simple drink.
"No one says that anymore," Jack replied.
That's when he realized how tired he was, how sick of the world he felt at that moment: school, his friend that betrayed him, the unnecessary amount of pressure that seemed to naturally come with this time of year.
"Why don't we talk anyway?" His father offered. Jack remained silent. No way was his father even capable of understanding the issue of loneliness. He would wave his confession away, tell him there were bigger problems in the world he should be thinking about. "Hey, if you don't then I get to tell the story of what happened when I got to remove this guy's tumor today."
Jack tried not to grimace in disgust. It would be a happy story, he knew. One of triumph and pride with a laugh of disbelief at just the right places for gore.
"It's nothing," he said, getting to his feet, "I've got homework-"
A hand grabbed his arm. He tried not to think that this was the same hand that washed away the blood from the tumor surgery today.
"If you're out here alone I assume you have no one else to talk to," his father said, "so sit down and talk to me or you're grounded."
"Can you ground me from not going to school tomorrow?" He mumbled, his feet shuffling reluctantly back to the seat.
"No, but I can always call your teachers if you won't tell me yourself what the problem is."
Rolling his eyes Jack sighed, releasing all of the embarrassment and anger until he was left with a dry, hoarse, explanation.
"There's this dance, it's so stupid," he began, keeping his eyes to the wooden floor beneath him; he swore he could already feel his face growing red as embarrassment found its way back to surface, "just because it's a holiday I guess that means we have to have a school dance."
"Valentine's Day is coming up, it's understandable."
He allowed a single glare towards his father give hint of his anger.
"Anyway, I don't care. I really don't. But Mark got a date. He actually has a girlfriend." His glare returned, bitterly piercing firebolts of betrayal towards the ground.
"Did you ever consider being happy for your friend?"
Jack rolled his eyes. He'd seen that coming before the conversation began.
"Yeah, I guess I'm happy for him," he admitted, "but...whatever. Yeah, I'm happy for him. Thanks for the advice."
He flashed a fake smile and was both relieved and hurt when his father stood up.
"Glad I could help," his father replied, placing a hand on his son's shoulder as he stepped into the house. He paused, reading Jack's irritated glare even with his back turned to him. "Forgive me if I'm not excited about the thought of my son dedicating his life to a girl before he's even found a job. Trust me, you do not want to go there."
He stepped into the house like that advice was helpful, like Jack was actually going to follow him, nodding in agreement, thankful that his father was there to protect him. He sank lower into the seat, taking pride in the fact that he knew someday he wouldn't turn out like his father and everything would be fine. He wasn't going to go inside and let a drink solve his problems for him. Whatever it took, as long he was different from his father he had something to be proud of.
Fandom: Lost
Character: Jack Shephard
Prompt: 014: Green
Rating: PG
Summary: A simple dinner can go wrong.
Word Count: 430
Disclaimer: Lost belongs to J.J. Abrams and co. from Bad Robot and ABC.
Kate broke first, unable to fight the laugh bursting to make fun of her faults. A laugh from him soon followed; he was relieved it wouldn't look like he had immediately jumped to laugh at the failure of a dinner.
"It's soup," he said, encouraged by the life-span of her laughter, "how do you mess up cooking soup?"
Kate shrugged as she turned away, pouring the boiling soup into the sink, pink in the face from laughter.
"Maybe you should try sandwiches," he teased, "start with the basics: peanut butter and jelly. I've heard they're quite good."
"Shut up," Kate laughed, rolling her eyes, "maybe it was expired."
She began digging through a trashbag, looking for the empty soup can she had just thrown out.
"It was just tomato...vegetable...something or another soup," he said, "really. Just add water. It says so, right on the can."
He pointed to those exact words written beneath an expiration date reading '11/28/04'.
"That must mean another food drop's coming soon," Kate said, attempting to set aside her mistake by taking the simple black-and-white label on the can seriously, "and that this soup's been in here for God knows how long."
"If you say so."
He turned back to the collection of food on the counter as Kate threw the can away. The selections of soups and chips weren't anything out of the ordinary; the failed attempt at dinner left them with the choice of eating what was basically tomato sauce or what Dharma called 'Beef and Onion Vegetable Soup'. He grimaced at the thought of consuming the combination as a soup.
"It was just so green," Kate said, grinning again, "it's like it burnt or exploded."
"Maybe it killed itself just to be relieved of its horrible fate."
Kate rolled her eyes and began sorting through the food herself.
"I like how they assume what people like to eat," she commented. Her face contorted into disgust as she picked up a package of chicken tenders. "There are still vegetarians in this world."
Jack shrugged.
"I guess they figured you could be hunting boar anyway," he offered. She didn't look satisfied.
Shaking her head, Kate replaced the package. He saw her grin before he realized what she was excited about.
"'Dharma Frozen Cheese Pizza'," she read from the half-empty package, "can't be as bad as Dharma Frozen Broccoli."
"Maybe I should do the cooking this time," he said, taking the pizza from her.
"It's letting pizza heat in an oven, not cooking."
"Tell that to your poor, dead, vegetable soup. Or whatever that was supposed to be."
Title: Blue
Fandom: Lost
Character: Jack Shephard
Prompt: 015 Green
Rating: PG
Summary: That's when he realized how tired he was, how sick of the world he felt at that moment: school, his friend that betrayed him, the unnecessary amount of pressure that seemed to naturally come with this time of year.
Word Count: 721
Disclaimer: Lost belongs to J.J. Abrams and co. from Bad Robot and ABC.
"Why so blue?"
Jack managed a dry laugh, which was the least heavy of emotions he'd been able to conjure that afternoon. His father sat beside him on a chair across from him. Stars shone somewhere above them, blocked out by the khaki cover of their deck. Wearing a suit and smelling of sweat his father became an instant obstacle in his search for answers he'd been on since coming home from school five hours ago. An empty glass of lemonade sat by him; the only thing he'd found in the refrigerator.
His father had the decency not to bring one of his bottles out here, the ones he locked up containing the drink that would wash away whatever it was he was so despondent about when he walked through the door. Or maybe today was one of his few good days. It was unfair, he thought, that his father's problems could be solved with one simple drink.
"No one says that anymore," Jack replied.
That's when he realized how tired he was, how sick of the world he felt at that moment: school, his friend that betrayed him, the unnecessary amount of pressure that seemed to naturally come with this time of year.
"Why don't we talk anyway?" His father offered. Jack remained silent. No way was his father even capable of understanding the issue of loneliness. He would wave his confession away, tell him there were bigger problems in the world he should be thinking about. "Hey, if you don't then I get to tell the story of what happened when I got to remove this guy's tumor today."
Jack tried not to grimace in disgust. It would be a happy story, he knew. One of triumph and pride with a laugh of disbelief at just the right places for gore.
"It's nothing," he said, getting to his feet, "I've got homework-"
A hand grabbed his arm. He tried not to think that this was the same hand that washed away the blood from the tumor surgery today.
"If you're out here alone I assume you have no one else to talk to," his father said, "so sit down and talk to me or you're grounded."
"Can you ground me from not going to school tomorrow?" He mumbled, his feet shuffling reluctantly back to the seat.
"No, but I can always call your teachers if you won't tell me yourself what the problem is."
Rolling his eyes Jack sighed, releasing all of the embarrassment and anger until he was left with a dry, hoarse, explanation.
"There's this dance, it's so stupid," he began, keeping his eyes to the wooden floor beneath him; he swore he could already feel his face growing red as embarrassment found its way back to surface, "just because it's a holiday I guess that means we have to have a school dance."
"Valentine's Day is coming up, it's understandable."
He allowed a single glare towards his father give hint of his anger.
"Anyway, I don't care. I really don't. But Mark got a date. He actually has a girlfriend." His glare returned, bitterly piercing firebolts of betrayal towards the ground.
"Did you ever consider being happy for your friend?"
Jack rolled his eyes. He'd seen that coming before the conversation began.
"Yeah, I guess I'm happy for him," he admitted, "but...whatever. Yeah, I'm happy for him. Thanks for the advice."
He flashed a fake smile and was both relieved and hurt when his father stood up.
"Glad I could help," his father replied, placing a hand on his son's shoulder as he stepped into the house. He paused, reading Jack's irritated glare even with his back turned to him. "Forgive me if I'm not excited about the thought of my son dedicating his life to a girl before he's even found a job. Trust me, you do not want to go there."
He stepped into the house like that advice was helpful, like Jack was actually going to follow him, nodding in agreement, thankful that his father was there to protect him. He sank lower into the seat, taking pride in the fact that he knew someday he wouldn't turn out like his father and everything would be fine. He wasn't going to go inside and let a drink solve his problems for him. Whatever it took, as long he was different from his father he had something to be proud of.