Lost: Last Chance Pt. 3 (Dr. Jack Shepard/Boone Carlyle)
Title: Fear
Fandom: Lost
Characters: Jack Shepard/Boone Carlyle
Prompt: 003. Truth
Word Count: 832
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: For slash_me_twice
seconds. That's all I was gonna give it. So I started to count. One ... two
... three ... four ... five. Then it was gone. - Jack, Pilot Episode'>
Jack was four glasses of scotch into a previously unopened bottle by the time the body on his couch stirred.
'The body'. He couldn't bring himself to think of him as 'Boone'. Because Boone was dead. Jack watched him die. Jack buried him in a hole on the island. So there had to be some other explanation.
But for the life of him he couldn't figure out what in the hell that explanation might be.
He looked like Boone. Underneath the scruffy beard the features were Boone's. Same eyes. Same mouth. Once Jack had pulled him in from the porch and placed him on the couch he'd shoved up the ragged leg of his pants and inspected his leg. Obviously something had happened to it but it was no where near the mangled wreck Boone had died with.
"Huh?" Boone struggled to sit up. "Jack? What's going on? Where are we?" Boone's eyes darted around the room.
"The first day of the plane crash - what's the first thing I said to you?" Jack congratulated himself for being able to get the question out without stammering.
"What is this? A quiz? I don't remember! I don't remember anything including how I got here!"
"The first day on the beach. You were giving Rose CPR…" Jack prompted. "What did I say?"
Boone slumped back down on the sofa. "You said I was doing it wrong. That I was just blowing air into her stomach."
Jack nodded, unsure whether he was relieved or not. "I don't understand. How?"
"How what? Come on Jack. Tell me what happened! Where are we? Where's everyone else?"
Jack reluctantly inched closer to the couch and sat on the coffee table across from Boone. "What's the last thing you remember? Where were you before here?"
"The plane." Boone said after a minute. "The little Cessna." He looked at Jack. "I sent out a distress call on the radio. Somebody answered." Boone frowned. "Then I was in the caves."
"What else?"
"Nothing!" Panic crept into Boone's voice. "Why can't I remember? What happened to me?"
Instinctively Jack's hand came to rest on Boone's shoulder. The moment froze in time. Looking into Boone's eyes, feeling the warm flesh under his hand made everything real for Jack in a way nothing else had. "You -" Jack's mouth worked to get the words out. "The plane fell off the cliff and…" Of all the things Jack's said, the diagnoses he's pronounced, the words of comfort he's had to say, nothing comes close to what's about to come out of his mouth. "You died. Your leg was in bad shape and there was a lot of internal bleeding." The words, at first slow and halting suddenly burst forth lie water through a broken dam. "I was going to try and take the leg to control some of the bleeding."
"But I wouldn't let you." Boone finished. His lips set in a thin line. "I woke up and told you to let me go."
Hearing the words for a second time made Jack scramble to his feet and being pacing. "This is crazy. I'm crazy. I've finally lost my mind. This isn't happening. You're not here and I'm not having this conversation with you." He stopped in front of the liquor cart and paused for another shot, downing it in a single gulp.
"Can I have one of those?"
Jack spun around and Boone gave a smile that didn't come close to reaching his eyes.
"If I'm going to be a ghost I should at least get to drink."
Jack drew a shaky hand over his face. "You're not a ghost. There's no such thing. You're a hallucination. A delusion. A physical manifestation of my fucked up God complex."
"Excuse me Dr. Freud, but this physical manifestation has to go to the bathroom." Boone suddenly gave Jack a genuine smile.
"What? Why are you smiling?"
"Nothing. It's just typical Jack. You over think everything." Boone got to his feet. "Coming up with every explanation except for one." Boone gestured. "Maybe, bear with me I know this is radical idea, just maybe you made a mistake. I wasn't really dead. I've read about that happening to people before. They made a movie about it - that guy in Jamaica…"
"Boone you died. We buried you."
"Right. Because you can't ever be wrong." Boone rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'm a hallucination. Whatever. Just point me to a phone, I'll call Shannon and I'll be out of here."
Fandom: Lost
Characters: Jack Shepard/Boone Carlyle
Prompt: 003. Truth
Word Count: 832
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: For slash_me_twice
seconds. That's all I was gonna give it. So I started to count. One ... two
... three ... four ... five. Then it was gone. - Jack, Pilot Episode'>
Jack was four glasses of scotch into a previously unopened bottle by the time the body on his couch stirred.
'The body'. He couldn't bring himself to think of him as 'Boone'. Because Boone was dead. Jack watched him die. Jack buried him in a hole on the island. So there had to be some other explanation.
But for the life of him he couldn't figure out what in the hell that explanation might be.
He looked like Boone. Underneath the scruffy beard the features were Boone's. Same eyes. Same mouth. Once Jack had pulled him in from the porch and placed him on the couch he'd shoved up the ragged leg of his pants and inspected his leg. Obviously something had happened to it but it was no where near the mangled wreck Boone had died with.
"Huh?" Boone struggled to sit up. "Jack? What's going on? Where are we?" Boone's eyes darted around the room.
"The first day of the plane crash - what's the first thing I said to you?" Jack congratulated himself for being able to get the question out without stammering.
"What is this? A quiz? I don't remember! I don't remember anything including how I got here!"
"The first day on the beach. You were giving Rose CPR…" Jack prompted. "What did I say?"
Boone slumped back down on the sofa. "You said I was doing it wrong. That I was just blowing air into her stomach."
Jack nodded, unsure whether he was relieved or not. "I don't understand. How?"
"How what? Come on Jack. Tell me what happened! Where are we? Where's everyone else?"
Jack reluctantly inched closer to the couch and sat on the coffee table across from Boone. "What's the last thing you remember? Where were you before here?"
"The plane." Boone said after a minute. "The little Cessna." He looked at Jack. "I sent out a distress call on the radio. Somebody answered." Boone frowned. "Then I was in the caves."
"What else?"
"Nothing!" Panic crept into Boone's voice. "Why can't I remember? What happened to me?"
Instinctively Jack's hand came to rest on Boone's shoulder. The moment froze in time. Looking into Boone's eyes, feeling the warm flesh under his hand made everything real for Jack in a way nothing else had. "You -" Jack's mouth worked to get the words out. "The plane fell off the cliff and…" Of all the things Jack's said, the diagnoses he's pronounced, the words of comfort he's had to say, nothing comes close to what's about to come out of his mouth. "You died. Your leg was in bad shape and there was a lot of internal bleeding." The words, at first slow and halting suddenly burst forth lie water through a broken dam. "I was going to try and take the leg to control some of the bleeding."
"But I wouldn't let you." Boone finished. His lips set in a thin line. "I woke up and told you to let me go."
Hearing the words for a second time made Jack scramble to his feet and being pacing. "This is crazy. I'm crazy. I've finally lost my mind. This isn't happening. You're not here and I'm not having this conversation with you." He stopped in front of the liquor cart and paused for another shot, downing it in a single gulp.
"Can I have one of those?"
Jack spun around and Boone gave a smile that didn't come close to reaching his eyes.
"If I'm going to be a ghost I should at least get to drink."
Jack drew a shaky hand over his face. "You're not a ghost. There's no such thing. You're a hallucination. A delusion. A physical manifestation of my fucked up God complex."
"Excuse me Dr. Freud, but this physical manifestation has to go to the bathroom." Boone suddenly gave Jack a genuine smile.
"What? Why are you smiling?"
"Nothing. It's just typical Jack. You over think everything." Boone got to his feet. "Coming up with every explanation except for one." Boone gestured. "Maybe, bear with me I know this is radical idea, just maybe you made a mistake. I wasn't really dead. I've read about that happening to people before. They made a movie about it - that guy in Jamaica…"
"Boone you died. We buried you."
"Right. Because you can't ever be wrong." Boone rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'm a hallucination. Whatever. Just point me to a phone, I'll call Shannon and I'll be out of here."