Unflickering Light - Lost - Daniel/Desmond
Title: Unflickering Light
Pairing: Daniel/Desmond
Word Count: 1130
Rating: PG
A/N: Started for comment_fic and writing_rainbow. Totally, totally, incredibly not canon-compliant.
Summary: Granted immortality by the island, Daniel and Desmond trudge on through time.
This is a fire that won't go out.
And Daniel knows, objectively speaking, that immortality is impossible for humans. Really. Even science can't stop the march of time and the weight of aging (and there are those who say that it shouldn't even try, though Daniel's always been loath to let ethics stop progress: one man's sin is another man's science). Impossible. Physically, scientifically, completely and utterly impossible.
Yet here they are.
Two-hundred years later.
Hands linked, skin tanned, with a light in their eyes that should have been extinguished centuries ago.
Maybe it's something about the island. The magnetism. The radiation.
Something, something, something.
He doesn't have the equipment to test it out.
Leaning against Desmond - his constant in all things - Daniel has a problem even more grave than a lack of equipment: he has a lack of drive. Why question this? They are alive and they are together and forever waits for them endlessly.
"We should get moving," Desmond says. He looks around the jungle and Daniel feels like Desmond sees more than he does: he always has.
"Back to the caves?"
"Aye," Desmond agrees. The centuries have eroded at his old accent but he clings to its remains: he refuses to be an islander, a native. "Back to the caves."
Safest place on the island.
They trudge.
The camp fire is already lit when they make it home, radiating flickering, orange light. Richard greets them with a smile - Daniel isn't surprised that Desmond does not respond in kind.
"Good evening," Richard says. He stands.
Fluid.
He has had so much longer to adapt to this than they have. Two hundred years is a droplet in the time that Richard has lasted.
"Hey," Daniel answers. Desmond's hand twitches in his grasp. "What are you, uh, doing? Here, I mean."
"I wanted to check in on you. It's been a while, Daniel."
It's been decades. "We're fine," he says - because they are, in a way. They always have been.
The island cares for them, even when it shouldn't, even when it would be better if it didn't. It heals their wounds and soothes their sorrows with its sunlight and its beauty. The island's bright colours make Desmond bristle more than ever and Daniel's pretty sure that he doesn't know how to handle Desmond any more, not like he used to.
"Yeah," Desmond agrees. "Fine 'cept for the immortality you cursed us with."
"That wasn't me," Richard says - but he can hide from the blame all that he likes. Daniel knows that Desmond will never shift his focus. Everybody needs a scapegoat. Desmond chose Richard.
Desmond snorts. He doesn't sit down near the fire and his grip on Daniel's hand won't allow him to do so either.
"Maybe you should go?" Daniel suggests.
He doesn't want him to - another face, separate from Desmond's, is a rare treat. Something to be cherished, though there are days when Daniel thinks that he could watch and study Desmond for eternity and never get bored.
Richard stands, moving with a fluidity that Daniel himself has never mastered. Years have passed but here he is: still the same. Richard is a smooth pebble, all rough edges eroded. Desmond and Daniel retain the ragged cracks that could cut whoever is foolish enough to touch them.
"It was nice to see you," Richard says. When he departs into the jungle, the night swallows him hungrily.
"I don't trust him," Desmond says. Frowning, he sits by the fire.
"You don't trust anyone," Daniel points out.
He doesn't sit beside him.
For once, he doesn't want to.
*
The jungle is quiet. No life stirs - not even the insects buzz.
Daniel shouldn't be here. It isn't right.
Desmond would never speak to him again.
"Are you sure?" Richard asks.
Daniel thinks of the prospect of forever mapped out before them. He nods. "Yeah. Yeah, definitely."
And so, reluctantly, Richard tells him exactly what must be done.
*
He breathes deep.
The island seems brighter today as they walk through its jungle. The greens, the browns, the yellows. It's like the painting palate of a schoolchild. Daniel smiles when he looks at it; he remembers, so long ago, when the greatest mystery that this place had held was that the sunlight didn't hit it right. That seems like such a small puzzle now, a tiny playing piece in a game they still don't understand. Centuries have passed and they are still pawns.
Desmond has not spoken to him all morning - but he still comes with him, still trudges wearily forth.
"You know where we're going, don't you?" Daniel asks once they're halfway there.
Without looking at him, Desmond nods. "Aye," he says. "I do."
He doesn't say anything more and Daniel's pleading brown eyes won't drag anything further out of him.
They have explored every inch of this island so thoroughly that it is rare that anything can surprise them these days. At first they'd been looking for an escape: a boat or a plane or some way of communicating with those they'd left behind. Nothing. Building a raft didn't work: around and around and around they'd go before ending up where they'd started. Daniel's attempts at crafting the technology to let them send a message failed: the equipment wouldn't work. Fried.
After a while, when they walked they weren't looking for anything. They moved; they explored; they ate what they found. Undiscovered fruits with no name and berries sweeter than Daniel had ever thought possible.
But that time is over, now.
Desmond is tired. Penny is dead by now and she was gone long before that; Daniel has watched the weight of this loss and others take its long toll upon his friend, and there is nothing that he can do to soothe it away. He can take Desmond to heart and try to kiss his troubles away, but he can't reach him. Not deep, not where he needs to.
His breath stills for a moment in his lungs as they reach it. The Temple has aged as well as they have: the walls have not crumbled and it is timeless. Overgrown, perhaps, but the power of this place still shoots shivers up Daniel's spine.
"We're here," he says.
Here.
Last stop.
Their last adventure together.
He reaches for Desmond's hand and clings on more tightly than before while he reminds himself that this is the natural order of things: everything has an ending just as everything has a beginning. Together, footsteps making no sound, they approach The Temple to ask the island to take back the gift it bestowed on their unwilling shoulders years ago. Daniel breathes deep.
It is time for this fire to fade.
Pairing: Daniel/Desmond
Word Count: 1130
Rating: PG
A/N: Started for comment_fic and writing_rainbow. Totally, totally, incredibly not canon-compliant.
Summary: Granted immortality by the island, Daniel and Desmond trudge on through time.
This is a fire that won't go out.
And Daniel knows, objectively speaking, that immortality is impossible for humans. Really. Even science can't stop the march of time and the weight of aging (and there are those who say that it shouldn't even try, though Daniel's always been loath to let ethics stop progress: one man's sin is another man's science). Impossible. Physically, scientifically, completely and utterly impossible.
Yet here they are.
Two-hundred years later.
Hands linked, skin tanned, with a light in their eyes that should have been extinguished centuries ago.
Maybe it's something about the island. The magnetism. The radiation.
Something, something, something.
He doesn't have the equipment to test it out.
Leaning against Desmond - his constant in all things - Daniel has a problem even more grave than a lack of equipment: he has a lack of drive. Why question this? They are alive and they are together and forever waits for them endlessly.
"We should get moving," Desmond says. He looks around the jungle and Daniel feels like Desmond sees more than he does: he always has.
"Back to the caves?"
"Aye," Desmond agrees. The centuries have eroded at his old accent but he clings to its remains: he refuses to be an islander, a native. "Back to the caves."
Safest place on the island.
They trudge.
The camp fire is already lit when they make it home, radiating flickering, orange light. Richard greets them with a smile - Daniel isn't surprised that Desmond does not respond in kind.
"Good evening," Richard says. He stands.
Fluid.
He has had so much longer to adapt to this than they have. Two hundred years is a droplet in the time that Richard has lasted.
"Hey," Daniel answers. Desmond's hand twitches in his grasp. "What are you, uh, doing? Here, I mean."
"I wanted to check in on you. It's been a while, Daniel."
It's been decades. "We're fine," he says - because they are, in a way. They always have been.
The island cares for them, even when it shouldn't, even when it would be better if it didn't. It heals their wounds and soothes their sorrows with its sunlight and its beauty. The island's bright colours make Desmond bristle more than ever and Daniel's pretty sure that he doesn't know how to handle Desmond any more, not like he used to.
"Yeah," Desmond agrees. "Fine 'cept for the immortality you cursed us with."
"That wasn't me," Richard says - but he can hide from the blame all that he likes. Daniel knows that Desmond will never shift his focus. Everybody needs a scapegoat. Desmond chose Richard.
Desmond snorts. He doesn't sit down near the fire and his grip on Daniel's hand won't allow him to do so either.
"Maybe you should go?" Daniel suggests.
He doesn't want him to - another face, separate from Desmond's, is a rare treat. Something to be cherished, though there are days when Daniel thinks that he could watch and study Desmond for eternity and never get bored.
Richard stands, moving with a fluidity that Daniel himself has never mastered. Years have passed but here he is: still the same. Richard is a smooth pebble, all rough edges eroded. Desmond and Daniel retain the ragged cracks that could cut whoever is foolish enough to touch them.
"It was nice to see you," Richard says. When he departs into the jungle, the night swallows him hungrily.
"I don't trust him," Desmond says. Frowning, he sits by the fire.
"You don't trust anyone," Daniel points out.
He doesn't sit beside him.
For once, he doesn't want to.
*
The jungle is quiet. No life stirs - not even the insects buzz.
Daniel shouldn't be here. It isn't right.
Desmond would never speak to him again.
"Are you sure?" Richard asks.
Daniel thinks of the prospect of forever mapped out before them. He nods. "Yeah. Yeah, definitely."
And so, reluctantly, Richard tells him exactly what must be done.
*
He breathes deep.
The island seems brighter today as they walk through its jungle. The greens, the browns, the yellows. It's like the painting palate of a schoolchild. Daniel smiles when he looks at it; he remembers, so long ago, when the greatest mystery that this place had held was that the sunlight didn't hit it right. That seems like such a small puzzle now, a tiny playing piece in a game they still don't understand. Centuries have passed and they are still pawns.
Desmond has not spoken to him all morning - but he still comes with him, still trudges wearily forth.
"You know where we're going, don't you?" Daniel asks once they're halfway there.
Without looking at him, Desmond nods. "Aye," he says. "I do."
He doesn't say anything more and Daniel's pleading brown eyes won't drag anything further out of him.
They have explored every inch of this island so thoroughly that it is rare that anything can surprise them these days. At first they'd been looking for an escape: a boat or a plane or some way of communicating with those they'd left behind. Nothing. Building a raft didn't work: around and around and around they'd go before ending up where they'd started. Daniel's attempts at crafting the technology to let them send a message failed: the equipment wouldn't work. Fried.
After a while, when they walked they weren't looking for anything. They moved; they explored; they ate what they found. Undiscovered fruits with no name and berries sweeter than Daniel had ever thought possible.
But that time is over, now.
Desmond is tired. Penny is dead by now and she was gone long before that; Daniel has watched the weight of this loss and others take its long toll upon his friend, and there is nothing that he can do to soothe it away. He can take Desmond to heart and try to kiss his troubles away, but he can't reach him. Not deep, not where he needs to.
His breath stills for a moment in his lungs as they reach it. The Temple has aged as well as they have: the walls have not crumbled and it is timeless. Overgrown, perhaps, but the power of this place still shoots shivers up Daniel's spine.
"We're here," he says.
Here.
Last stop.
Their last adventure together.
He reaches for Desmond's hand and clings on more tightly than before while he reminds himself that this is the natural order of things: everything has an ending just as everything has a beginning. Together, footsteps making no sound, they approach The Temple to ask the island to take back the gift it bestowed on their unwilling shoulders years ago. Daniel breathes deep.
It is time for this fire to fade.