Fic, Lost: Extremely Far and Incredibly Close (Desmond/Penny), PG, for philosophy_20
I'm writing het. I haven't written het for ages. I think I actually never wrote het seriously. Okay, I was thinking of writing Jack/Juliet this weekend so I'd have written het anyway, but The Constant came and I had plot bunnies and Desmond and Penny came along. But I'll be on the J/J soon. Meanwhile..
Title: Extremely Far and Incredibly Close
Characters/Pairing: Desmond/Penny, Sayid
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: if he was mine, he'd be with her now, he wouldn't be needing to make extra-continental calls.
Word count: 1468
Summary: For philosophy_20 prompt #13, love beyond desire. Everything is fractured, like pieces of a broken mirror; Desmond can see a thousand different reflections of himself in every scattered glass, but he can’t place the mirror back together and he knows that if he doesn’t do it now, he’s not going to do it again.
Spoilers:If you didn't see 4x05, I'm spoiling you the end.
A/N: My take on the ending of 'The Constant'. Shouldn't be too sappish, or at least so I hope ;) Title half stolen from a novel by Jonathan Safran Foer, where the Far wasn't far but Loud. I'm not worthy of cleaning his shoes, though.
Desmond takes the phone and his hand trembles slightly, holding the handset with maybe more force than it’s really necessary. But he needs to keep a grip on something and the handset is the best he has. He doesn’t have his memories, because it’s all messed up now; he’s starting to lose what conscience of past and present he had and he can’t even recall the name of this man who is making it possible for him to call her.
If she answers, but it shouldn’t be an option. She needs to answer, she needs to be there. If she isn’t... Desmond doesn’t want to think about what happens if she isn’t, but suddenly a drop of blood wets his upper lip and he brings his free hand up to wipe it away; if she doesn’t answer...
He blocks the thought out and breathes, his hand shaking, his mind seemingly fractured. He’s outside her house, wrapping himself in that leather jacket which couldn’t keep the cold out and he’s here in this room, a dirty blue shirt dripped in sweat clinging to his skin; he doesn’t know what to make out of it, except that the more he hears empty rings, the more his head pounds and flutters.
Everything is fractured, like pieces of a broken mirror; Desmond can see a thousand different reflections of himself in every scattered glass, but he can’t place the mirror back together and he knows that if he doesn’t do it now, he’s not going to do it again.
The phone rings and after the tenth time he thinks it’s over, maybe he should just go, sit somewhere and let it happen, but he can’t, not until the battery runs out, not until he knows for sure that Penny isn’t there.
The number works, she hasn’t changed it; it has to mean something, right?
After the tenth ring, he can feel his eyes burning and he knows he’s going to cry; he can swear he has never, never felt so much despair rising in him at such a fast speed. The seconds between that ring and the fourteenth seem to stretch like hours. Then there’s a click and as soon as he hears her voice say Hello, everything seems to stop.
“...Penny?”, he manages to say, not quite capable to believe that he’s actually speaking to her.
“Desmond?!”, he hears, and it’s not spoken in the tone she used last time. This time she’s mostly surprised and he can feel the joy spreading through her voice.
Suddenly he is on the road outside her house and it’s really not much cold anymore. He closes his eyes, he smiles feeling a certain warmth reaching every inch of his body and then he opens his eyes again and he’s there, in the room on the freighter, and there only, and he knows it’s 2004 and not 1996, even if whatever happened in between, it’s still a big, black hole.
“Penny... Penny... you answered..”, he says, not caring that he probably sounds like an idiot because hello, aye, she answered alright, but he’s still too incredulous to say anything else. He repeats it another time, probably to convince himself more than anything else.
“Desmond, where are you?”, she asks after a few seconds of silence, and suddenly quite a lot of those pieces glue together, he looks at the wall and it comes, it comes alright, but it’s too fast and he really can’t put together a sentence with a beginning and an end.
“I’m.. I’m on a boat... I’ve... I’ve been on an island...”, he says, flashes of an hatch and a beach and everything coming back to him, the hole becoming smaller. “My God, Penny, is that really you?”, he asks while his tears of despair turn into tears of relief.
“Yes... yes, it’s me.”, she answers, and she’s probably crying, too, and he can’t really wrap his head around the fact that she’s talking to him and that she’s kept the number and that she’s there.
“You believed me.. you still care about me.”, he says again, still more for himself than for her really, but Desmond can hear her laughing and how much did he dream of hearing that again? Too much really. His lips now stretch into a smile and he couldn’t possibly wipe it away.
“Des... I’ve been looking for you, for almost three years.”, she says, and his heart skips a couple of beats because she really hasn’t forgotten him and more flashes of a boat, of a woman in a bar paying his bill, of a stadium in Los Angeles come to him, the reflections becoming less and less by every second, in a rush that should leave him breathless, but it doesn’t happen.
“I know about the island, I’ve been searching...” and then there’s an interference and he suddenly starts to panic because it can’t be over now, he still hasn’t got everything back and he needs to hear her voice for at least another minute, or two, or maybe for the eternity, but that isn’t the matter right now. The matter is that it can’t be over now, he still has too much things to say to her and he can’t put this phone down without telling her them all.
He puts his hand over his ear, concentrating better. He looks at... damn, he still can’t remember his name, for a second, in panic, but the line returns.
“I spoke to your friend Charlie...”, Penny says, and suddenly a whole lot of other flashes go back to him and a sudden despair takes hold of him for a moment, a moment in which a sudden wave of guilt rises through all of himself, but he can’t think about it now, he will later, there’s time for it. Now he can’t, he needs to get himself back together, he needs to be with her.
“He told me you were still alive, it was where I knew I wasn’t crazy.”, she says; he can feel her smiling and he has to smile himself, too.
Then another interference comes, then the line is back and then she’s there again.
“Des, Des, are you still there?”
“Yes.. yes I’m here, I’m still here, can you hear me?”, he answers, the picture becoming clearer and clearer, just a few little holes here and there but he has to be out of it. His nose doesn’t even bleed anymore, but it’s not like he cares.
“Yes... yes, that’s better.”
Then, then, hell, the battery is going to finish soon and he can’t possibly let it happen before he doesn’t tell her.
“I love you, Penny. I’ve always loved you... I’m so sorry... I love you.”, he says, and while his words stumble and everything he sees is a blur by now, the picture is almost complete and then it comes again, that shiver he got once upon a time when he told her for the first time and he was terrified she wasn’t going to say it back.
“I love you, too.”, she says straight away; the shiver disappears and it seems like they both understood that their conversation time is running short. The words start to flow both from him and from her; he can almost see her and he can sense what she’s going to say before she even speaks. He thinks it’s the same for her, too.
“I don’t know where I am but...”
“I’ll find you, Des.”
“I promise..”
“No matter what...”
“I’ll come back to you.”
“I won’t give up.”
It’s fast, almost too much, as fast as his imaginary mirror is glued back together now, only a tiny, missing black piece breaking the glass, and then he replies before she even finishes her sentence.
“I promise. I love you.”, they say at the same time; the line falls and the image Desmond sees is his current one, whole, without a single fracture.
He looks at the phone in his hand like it was all a strange dream and that conversation never really happened, not being able to do a single thing, but then...
“I am sorry, the power source went dead. It’s all we had.”
He turns and meets Sayid’s eyes and it isn’t surprising that he remembers his name now.
Desmond can only smile at that.
“Thank you, Sayid.”, he says, letting that name roll from his lips, aware that knowing it again means that he’s regained a sanity he was too dangerously close to lose.
“It was enough.”, he says earnestly while shaking Sayid’s hand, and he doesn’t doubt it a second.
“Are you alright now?”, Sayid asks.
And there’s only one thing that Desmond can answer, while he savors the warm feeling that the conversation with Penny left spreading through every inch of his body.
“Aye, I’m perfect.”
End.
Title: Extremely Far and Incredibly Close
Characters/Pairing: Desmond/Penny, Sayid
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: if he was mine, he'd be with her now, he wouldn't be needing to make extra-continental calls.
Word count: 1468
Summary: For philosophy_20 prompt #13, love beyond desire. Everything is fractured, like pieces of a broken mirror; Desmond can see a thousand different reflections of himself in every scattered glass, but he can’t place the mirror back together and he knows that if he doesn’t do it now, he’s not going to do it again.
Spoilers:If you didn't see 4x05, I'm spoiling you the end.
A/N: My take on the ending of 'The Constant'. Shouldn't be too sappish, or at least so I hope ;) Title half stolen from a novel by Jonathan Safran Foer, where the Far wasn't far but Loud. I'm not worthy of cleaning his shoes, though.
Desmond takes the phone and his hand trembles slightly, holding the handset with maybe more force than it’s really necessary. But he needs to keep a grip on something and the handset is the best he has. He doesn’t have his memories, because it’s all messed up now; he’s starting to lose what conscience of past and present he had and he can’t even recall the name of this man who is making it possible for him to call her.
If she answers, but it shouldn’t be an option. She needs to answer, she needs to be there. If she isn’t... Desmond doesn’t want to think about what happens if she isn’t, but suddenly a drop of blood wets his upper lip and he brings his free hand up to wipe it away; if she doesn’t answer...
He blocks the thought out and breathes, his hand shaking, his mind seemingly fractured. He’s outside her house, wrapping himself in that leather jacket which couldn’t keep the cold out and he’s here in this room, a dirty blue shirt dripped in sweat clinging to his skin; he doesn’t know what to make out of it, except that the more he hears empty rings, the more his head pounds and flutters.
Everything is fractured, like pieces of a broken mirror; Desmond can see a thousand different reflections of himself in every scattered glass, but he can’t place the mirror back together and he knows that if he doesn’t do it now, he’s not going to do it again.
The phone rings and after the tenth time he thinks it’s over, maybe he should just go, sit somewhere and let it happen, but he can’t, not until the battery runs out, not until he knows for sure that Penny isn’t there.
The number works, she hasn’t changed it; it has to mean something, right?
After the tenth ring, he can feel his eyes burning and he knows he’s going to cry; he can swear he has never, never felt so much despair rising in him at such a fast speed. The seconds between that ring and the fourteenth seem to stretch like hours. Then there’s a click and as soon as he hears her voice say Hello, everything seems to stop.
“...Penny?”, he manages to say, not quite capable to believe that he’s actually speaking to her.
“Desmond?!”, he hears, and it’s not spoken in the tone she used last time. This time she’s mostly surprised and he can feel the joy spreading through her voice.
Suddenly he is on the road outside her house and it’s really not much cold anymore. He closes his eyes, he smiles feeling a certain warmth reaching every inch of his body and then he opens his eyes again and he’s there, in the room on the freighter, and there only, and he knows it’s 2004 and not 1996, even if whatever happened in between, it’s still a big, black hole.
“Penny... Penny... you answered..”, he says, not caring that he probably sounds like an idiot because hello, aye, she answered alright, but he’s still too incredulous to say anything else. He repeats it another time, probably to convince himself more than anything else.
“Desmond, where are you?”, she asks after a few seconds of silence, and suddenly quite a lot of those pieces glue together, he looks at the wall and it comes, it comes alright, but it’s too fast and he really can’t put together a sentence with a beginning and an end.
“I’m.. I’m on a boat... I’ve... I’ve been on an island...”, he says, flashes of an hatch and a beach and everything coming back to him, the hole becoming smaller. “My God, Penny, is that really you?”, he asks while his tears of despair turn into tears of relief.
“Yes... yes, it’s me.”, she answers, and she’s probably crying, too, and he can’t really wrap his head around the fact that she’s talking to him and that she’s kept the number and that she’s there.
“You believed me.. you still care about me.”, he says again, still more for himself than for her really, but Desmond can hear her laughing and how much did he dream of hearing that again? Too much really. His lips now stretch into a smile and he couldn’t possibly wipe it away.
“Des... I’ve been looking for you, for almost three years.”, she says, and his heart skips a couple of beats because she really hasn’t forgotten him and more flashes of a boat, of a woman in a bar paying his bill, of a stadium in Los Angeles come to him, the reflections becoming less and less by every second, in a rush that should leave him breathless, but it doesn’t happen.
“I know about the island, I’ve been searching...” and then there’s an interference and he suddenly starts to panic because it can’t be over now, he still hasn’t got everything back and he needs to hear her voice for at least another minute, or two, or maybe for the eternity, but that isn’t the matter right now. The matter is that it can’t be over now, he still has too much things to say to her and he can’t put this phone down without telling her them all.
He puts his hand over his ear, concentrating better. He looks at... damn, he still can’t remember his name, for a second, in panic, but the line returns.
“I spoke to your friend Charlie...”, Penny says, and suddenly a whole lot of other flashes go back to him and a sudden despair takes hold of him for a moment, a moment in which a sudden wave of guilt rises through all of himself, but he can’t think about it now, he will later, there’s time for it. Now he can’t, he needs to get himself back together, he needs to be with her.
“He told me you were still alive, it was where I knew I wasn’t crazy.”, she says; he can feel her smiling and he has to smile himself, too.
Then another interference comes, then the line is back and then she’s there again.
“Des, Des, are you still there?”
“Yes.. yes I’m here, I’m still here, can you hear me?”, he answers, the picture becoming clearer and clearer, just a few little holes here and there but he has to be out of it. His nose doesn’t even bleed anymore, but it’s not like he cares.
“Yes... yes, that’s better.”
Then, then, hell, the battery is going to finish soon and he can’t possibly let it happen before he doesn’t tell her.
“I love you, Penny. I’ve always loved you... I’m so sorry... I love you.”, he says, and while his words stumble and everything he sees is a blur by now, the picture is almost complete and then it comes again, that shiver he got once upon a time when he told her for the first time and he was terrified she wasn’t going to say it back.
“I love you, too.”, she says straight away; the shiver disappears and it seems like they both understood that their conversation time is running short. The words start to flow both from him and from her; he can almost see her and he can sense what she’s going to say before she even speaks. He thinks it’s the same for her, too.
“I don’t know where I am but...”
“I’ll find you, Des.”
“I promise..”
“No matter what...”
“I’ll come back to you.”
“I won’t give up.”
It’s fast, almost too much, as fast as his imaginary mirror is glued back together now, only a tiny, missing black piece breaking the glass, and then he replies before she even finishes her sentence.
“I promise. I love you.”, they say at the same time; the line falls and the image Desmond sees is his current one, whole, without a single fracture.
He looks at the phone in his hand like it was all a strange dream and that conversation never really happened, not being able to do a single thing, but then...
“I am sorry, the power source went dead. It’s all we had.”
He turns and meets Sayid’s eyes and it isn’t surprising that he remembers his name now.
Desmond can only smile at that.
“Thank you, Sayid.”, he says, letting that name roll from his lips, aware that knowing it again means that he’s regained a sanity he was too dangerously close to lose.
“It was enough.”, he says earnestly while shaking Sayid’s hand, and he doesn’t doubt it a second.
“Are you alright now?”, Sayid asks.
And there’s only one thing that Desmond can answer, while he savors the warm feeling that the conversation with Penny left spreading through every inch of his body.
“Aye, I’m perfect.”
End.