Fic: If the Battle Don't Kill You (2/5) (Ben/Sun)
Title: If the Battle Don't Kill You
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sun has never killed a man. Not until now.
Disclaimer: I don't own Lost. At all. I wish, but alas...
Author's Note: This story is a prequel to The Black King and the White Queen. Used for au100, prompt #034: Not Enough.
Previous Parts: Part One
Sun has never killed a man. Not until now. Her hand is shaking, she wants to drop the gun and scream until her voice gives out. Instead, she grips her wrist with the opposite hand and fights it still. She takes several deep breaths, but her heart won't stop beating hard enough to break through her ribcage.
She leaves him, this man whose name she doesn't know, where he fell and runs as fast as her feet will carry her, out the back emergency exit that has been disconnected. Just as Ben had told her to do. There is a car waiting, a familiar black one with tinted windows. She doesn't need to see him to know he's waiting for her in there.
As soon as she inside, she slams the door and leans against the window with her eyes closed. Ben starts to drive them away. Her heart is still hammering against her chest, and her breathing is short and rapid. She feels like vomiting.
"You did well," Ben tells her.
"How would you know?" she replies, without opening her eyes.
"You didn't run away," he answers.
She shakes her head. "Where could I run to?"
"Anywhere," he tells her. "Away. Away from this, from me."
No, she thinks. No she couldn't. She holds no loyalty to this man, only to the cause that he has offered her, the promise he has made. She has committed herself to that. Whatever the cost. "I will remember that man's face until the day that I die," she says. "But if I walk away now, I will regret it. I sold my soul the minute I sat down at that café with you. If this is how it must be...I won't run. I can't."
There is a long silence, and Sun relishes it. The pounding in her chest, her head, subsides and as much as her actions tonight weigh on her, she finds herself able to relax. The gun sits in the backseat, far away from her, and she makes every effort not to look at it.
"You won't," Ben says after a while.
"What?"
"Remember him." Sun looks at him strangely. That is impossible, she thinks. The look of fear in his eyes, the way they slid closed as he took his final breaths. She can't imagine a time when she will not remember him.
"If that is an attempt to make me feel better, you should know that lying about something like that is a terrible way to go about it," she tells him, with judgment. Nothing she knows about him would give her any reason to believe that he is trying to comfort her, to ease her burden, but she cannot think of any other possible reason for him to say something like that to her.
"It isn't a lie," he answers, his eyes on the road but his mind seemingly somewhere else. He doesn't even glance at her as he goes on, "I know it doesn't feel that way right now. But the sad truth is, the more time passes, the more his face will begin to fade away. With time, it gets easier. And after a while, you don't see them at all. Because they're in your way, in-between you and what you need. After time, you won't see them at all." Sun can't begin to understand that, let alone respond. "You don't get it now, but you will." She looks away from him and she thinks maybe he sighs. "But if that doesn't help you, maybe it'll give you some comfort to know that these people, Sun, are not innocent. And if they knew what we were looking for, who we were looking for, they would kill us without blinking."
"Me."
Ben looks over at her for a second. "What?" he asks.
"They would kill me," Sun replies. She looks over at him again, her face as hard as stone, her jaw set and her mind as clear and focused as it has ever been. She knows with perfect clarity that she is correct when she says, "I'm not naïve, Ben. There is no way that you mean to accomplish your ends with just the two of us. It isn't possible. You need more people, many more, than just me. I am a pawn in all of this. I'm...dispensable. If these people kill anyone, it will be me. And you will simply be left to fill my place."
Ben takes time to consider her words. Sun leans back against the headrest and closes her eyes. She thinks she should be more discomforted by this realization, but she isn't. She isn't even surprised. She has known him from the beginning the kind of man that he is, and while she is not stupid enough to believe that he sought her out for no reason, she is also not naïve enough to think that she could never be replaced. Given the choice between himself and her, she would be the one to die. She knows this, and she accepts it. It must never come to that.
"You're not dispensable, Sun," he eventually tells her. But that is all he says.
She doesn't reply. Instead, she closes her eyes and tries to sleep.
Time passes and she is forced to admit that Ben had been right. The people she murders, they get easier to forget, easier to put in their place. Her skin gets thicker, her mind grows more focused, and she realizes little by little that this is simply the price that she must pay, that the damnation and loss of her soul is what she has traded for the knowledge that her husband's death will be avenged. She thinks of them less, and after a while, she doesn't think of them at all.
"We're moving," Ben announces one day. She barely looks up, instead keeping focused on cleaning her gun. He looks over at her as if he is awaiting some kind of response, but she gives him none. He has been doing that a lot lately, telling her things that it seems he expects a response to when none is necessary. It confuses her.
"I bought a house, well I acquired it," he tells her. A rare moment of honesty. She looks up at him. "It'll be safer." She shrugs a very small shrug. It's just as well. She's tired of living in motels, and as empty as her bed feels without Jin in it, and the more aware she becomes of the loss when she is alone, it will be nice to have her own bedroom, apart from Ben. She has begun to feel as though he is always watching her, and it makes her uncomfortable.
"Very well," is her only reply.
The house that Ben has acquired is nearly as remote as it is possible to be. It's enormous, much too big for simply two people, but she doesn't question it too much because at least it isn't another motel room. At least it has its own kitchen and more than one dirty bathroom. She will allow the fact that it's position actually requires a helicopter to reach it. It makes her feel like Ben is a villain in a spy movie, and she doesn't even want to think about what that makes her.
"What do you think?" Ben asks her, as they stand in the entryway. It's a strange, useless question.
She sets her bag (her very small bag with so little inside of it) down and looks at him over her shoulder. "Does it have more than one bedroom?" she replies.
Later, she would come to realize how cruel this question must have sounded to him, but at that moment, she had no idea what was going on in his mind, that he had meant to impress her with this place. She'd had no conception of the thoughts and emotions that had been forming in his mind for a long time up to that point. She would not have thought Ben capable of being wounded by her question, by the indifference to the grandeur of his gesture and the callousness of her desire to put distance between the two of them. Hindsight, she would learn, truly sheds a very harsh light on things.
"Yes," he answers, after a few moments of hesitation. She nods and looks up to the second level.
"It's fine," she replies. And that's all.
Part Three
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sun has never killed a man. Not until now.
Disclaimer: I don't own Lost. At all. I wish, but alas...
Author's Note: This story is a prequel to The Black King and the White Queen. Used for au100, prompt #034: Not Enough.
Previous Parts: Part One
Sun has never killed a man. Not until now. Her hand is shaking, she wants to drop the gun and scream until her voice gives out. Instead, she grips her wrist with the opposite hand and fights it still. She takes several deep breaths, but her heart won't stop beating hard enough to break through her ribcage.
She leaves him, this man whose name she doesn't know, where he fell and runs as fast as her feet will carry her, out the back emergency exit that has been disconnected. Just as Ben had told her to do. There is a car waiting, a familiar black one with tinted windows. She doesn't need to see him to know he's waiting for her in there.
As soon as she inside, she slams the door and leans against the window with her eyes closed. Ben starts to drive them away. Her heart is still hammering against her chest, and her breathing is short and rapid. She feels like vomiting.
"You did well," Ben tells her.
"How would you know?" she replies, without opening her eyes.
"You didn't run away," he answers.
She shakes her head. "Where could I run to?"
"Anywhere," he tells her. "Away. Away from this, from me."
No, she thinks. No she couldn't. She holds no loyalty to this man, only to the cause that he has offered her, the promise he has made. She has committed herself to that. Whatever the cost. "I will remember that man's face until the day that I die," she says. "But if I walk away now, I will regret it. I sold my soul the minute I sat down at that café with you. If this is how it must be...I won't run. I can't."
There is a long silence, and Sun relishes it. The pounding in her chest, her head, subsides and as much as her actions tonight weigh on her, she finds herself able to relax. The gun sits in the backseat, far away from her, and she makes every effort not to look at it.
"You won't," Ben says after a while.
"What?"
"Remember him." Sun looks at him strangely. That is impossible, she thinks. The look of fear in his eyes, the way they slid closed as he took his final breaths. She can't imagine a time when she will not remember him.
"If that is an attempt to make me feel better, you should know that lying about something like that is a terrible way to go about it," she tells him, with judgment. Nothing she knows about him would give her any reason to believe that he is trying to comfort her, to ease her burden, but she cannot think of any other possible reason for him to say something like that to her.
"It isn't a lie," he answers, his eyes on the road but his mind seemingly somewhere else. He doesn't even glance at her as he goes on, "I know it doesn't feel that way right now. But the sad truth is, the more time passes, the more his face will begin to fade away. With time, it gets easier. And after a while, you don't see them at all. Because they're in your way, in-between you and what you need. After time, you won't see them at all." Sun can't begin to understand that, let alone respond. "You don't get it now, but you will." She looks away from him and she thinks maybe he sighs. "But if that doesn't help you, maybe it'll give you some comfort to know that these people, Sun, are not innocent. And if they knew what we were looking for, who we were looking for, they would kill us without blinking."
"Me."
Ben looks over at her for a second. "What?" he asks.
"They would kill me," Sun replies. She looks over at him again, her face as hard as stone, her jaw set and her mind as clear and focused as it has ever been. She knows with perfect clarity that she is correct when she says, "I'm not naïve, Ben. There is no way that you mean to accomplish your ends with just the two of us. It isn't possible. You need more people, many more, than just me. I am a pawn in all of this. I'm...dispensable. If these people kill anyone, it will be me. And you will simply be left to fill my place."
Ben takes time to consider her words. Sun leans back against the headrest and closes her eyes. She thinks she should be more discomforted by this realization, but she isn't. She isn't even surprised. She has known him from the beginning the kind of man that he is, and while she is not stupid enough to believe that he sought her out for no reason, she is also not naïve enough to think that she could never be replaced. Given the choice between himself and her, she would be the one to die. She knows this, and she accepts it. It must never come to that.
"You're not dispensable, Sun," he eventually tells her. But that is all he says.
She doesn't reply. Instead, she closes her eyes and tries to sleep.
Time passes and she is forced to admit that Ben had been right. The people she murders, they get easier to forget, easier to put in their place. Her skin gets thicker, her mind grows more focused, and she realizes little by little that this is simply the price that she must pay, that the damnation and loss of her soul is what she has traded for the knowledge that her husband's death will be avenged. She thinks of them less, and after a while, she doesn't think of them at all.
"We're moving," Ben announces one day. She barely looks up, instead keeping focused on cleaning her gun. He looks over at her as if he is awaiting some kind of response, but she gives him none. He has been doing that a lot lately, telling her things that it seems he expects a response to when none is necessary. It confuses her.
"I bought a house, well I acquired it," he tells her. A rare moment of honesty. She looks up at him. "It'll be safer." She shrugs a very small shrug. It's just as well. She's tired of living in motels, and as empty as her bed feels without Jin in it, and the more aware she becomes of the loss when she is alone, it will be nice to have her own bedroom, apart from Ben. She has begun to feel as though he is always watching her, and it makes her uncomfortable.
"Very well," is her only reply.
The house that Ben has acquired is nearly as remote as it is possible to be. It's enormous, much too big for simply two people, but she doesn't question it too much because at least it isn't another motel room. At least it has its own kitchen and more than one dirty bathroom. She will allow the fact that it's position actually requires a helicopter to reach it. It makes her feel like Ben is a villain in a spy movie, and she doesn't even want to think about what that makes her.
"What do you think?" Ben asks her, as they stand in the entryway. It's a strange, useless question.
She sets her bag (her very small bag with so little inside of it) down and looks at him over her shoulder. "Does it have more than one bedroom?" she replies.
Later, she would come to realize how cruel this question must have sounded to him, but at that moment, she had no idea what was going on in his mind, that he had meant to impress her with this place. She'd had no conception of the thoughts and emotions that had been forming in his mind for a long time up to that point. She would not have thought Ben capable of being wounded by her question, by the indifference to the grandeur of his gesture and the callousness of her desire to put distance between the two of them. Hindsight, she would learn, truly sheds a very harsh light on things.
"Yes," he answers, after a few moments of hesitation. She nods and looks up to the second level.
"It's fine," she replies. And that's all.
Part Three