The Hand That Feeds You - Lost - Gen (Michael)
Title: The Hand That Feeds You
Characters: Michael, Walt, Jin
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG
A/N: Random S1 ficlet written with writing_rainbow's "Forest" and varietypack100's "What?" prompts.
Summary: "He's gone. He just ran off again."
The sun beats down relentlessly, trapping them in a cycle of sweat and work and toil. Michael closes his eyes against the sun: Jack had advised them against working during these hours, when the sun was at its highest, but Michael isn't inclined to follow that advice. He needs to get his boy off this island. Even an hour's break a day put that goal a little further out of reach.
He hears trudging footsteps that signal Jin approaching and doesn't glance up - he's glad for the help, even if the guy doesn't speak more than a few damn words of English. He's good at working and Michael's happier to have him chopping wood than trying to drown him. He accepts the water bottle silently handed to him with a nod of thanks. Jin seems to understand the need to escape just as much as Michael does, and Michael's not about to start questioning his motives.
"Dad," Walt says, approaching from behind him. Michael sweeps a hand over his forehead, feeling the sweat that clusters there. "Dad! Vincent's gone."
"What?"
"He's gone. He just ran off again."
Michael looks to the jungle as Walt points in the direction that the dog disappeared in and feels his heart sink. Even in the sunlight he hates the sight of those trees, hates the jungle and hates the prospect of searching fruitlessly in there for a dog that'll probably turn up on its own anyway. The way his boy's looking at him, though, he knows he hasn't got much of a choice unless he wants to deal with a scowling pre-teen for the next few days.
A garbled mash of Korean blasts from Jin - he looks worried. "Walt's dog has gone," Michael says slowly, with as helpful hand motions as he can come up with. "I am going to go and find it, okay?"
Jin blinks. No comprehension dawns on his face and Michael thinks that maybe he'll need to go and work on his hand gestures. He'd never been any good at charades.
He turns his attention back to his son instead. "Walt, can you go and stay near Rose 'til I get back?" he asks. That's the best compromise he can come up with: he doesn't want to take the kid deep into the jungle with him but he knows Walt would resent being handed over to a babysitter. On this island they're reaching an unstable compromise, halfway between a blind and watchful eye.
"Just find Vincent," Walt pleads, before he turns to trudge closer to his unknowing minder.
Michael walks towards the jungle and isn't too surprised when Jin follows. "Together," Jin says, mangled pronunciation, as he points between them.
One word, one damn word, but it's pretty much impossible to hold back a smile. "Yeah," Michael agrees. "Together."
As Jack keeps saying - together is the only thing they've got left here.
Characters: Michael, Walt, Jin
Word Count: 500
Rating: PG
A/N: Random S1 ficlet written with writing_rainbow's "Forest" and varietypack100's "What?" prompts.
Summary: "He's gone. He just ran off again."
The sun beats down relentlessly, trapping them in a cycle of sweat and work and toil. Michael closes his eyes against the sun: Jack had advised them against working during these hours, when the sun was at its highest, but Michael isn't inclined to follow that advice. He needs to get his boy off this island. Even an hour's break a day put that goal a little further out of reach.
He hears trudging footsteps that signal Jin approaching and doesn't glance up - he's glad for the help, even if the guy doesn't speak more than a few damn words of English. He's good at working and Michael's happier to have him chopping wood than trying to drown him. He accepts the water bottle silently handed to him with a nod of thanks. Jin seems to understand the need to escape just as much as Michael does, and Michael's not about to start questioning his motives.
"Dad," Walt says, approaching from behind him. Michael sweeps a hand over his forehead, feeling the sweat that clusters there. "Dad! Vincent's gone."
"What?"
"He's gone. He just ran off again."
Michael looks to the jungle as Walt points in the direction that the dog disappeared in and feels his heart sink. Even in the sunlight he hates the sight of those trees, hates the jungle and hates the prospect of searching fruitlessly in there for a dog that'll probably turn up on its own anyway. The way his boy's looking at him, though, he knows he hasn't got much of a choice unless he wants to deal with a scowling pre-teen for the next few days.
A garbled mash of Korean blasts from Jin - he looks worried. "Walt's dog has gone," Michael says slowly, with as helpful hand motions as he can come up with. "I am going to go and find it, okay?"
Jin blinks. No comprehension dawns on his face and Michael thinks that maybe he'll need to go and work on his hand gestures. He'd never been any good at charades.
He turns his attention back to his son instead. "Walt, can you go and stay near Rose 'til I get back?" he asks. That's the best compromise he can come up with: he doesn't want to take the kid deep into the jungle with him but he knows Walt would resent being handed over to a babysitter. On this island they're reaching an unstable compromise, halfway between a blind and watchful eye.
"Just find Vincent," Walt pleads, before he turns to trudge closer to his unknowing minder.
Michael walks towards the jungle and isn't too surprised when Jin follows. "Together," Jin says, mangled pronunciation, as he points between them.
One word, one damn word, but it's pretty much impossible to hold back a smile. "Yeah," Michael agrees. "Together."
As Jack keeps saying - together is the only thing they've got left here.