And When You're Gone [gen; PG-13]
Title: And When You’re Gone
Author: longerthanwedo
Characters: Desmond, Kate, Miles, Richard, Sawyer, Claire, Hurley, Ben, Frank
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Everybody dies, Jack. Some before you, some long after you. A flurry of last moments, of decided fates. Years and countries apart, the survivors meet their ends.
Spoilers: Post “The End”; mild spoilers for the entire series.
Notes: And here it is, my first ever LOST fic. Created to answer the most potent (in my opinion) post-series question: how does it end? As you can imagine, this is angst-heavy but it has its optimistic moments as well. Feedback is greatly appreciated.
Desmond leaves the island minutes after he wakes up.
There’s a sailboat on the west beach, one that they’d never seen before, weather beaten and he can’t read the words on the side. He asks Hurley if he can leave, go back to his family. Says he’s done with the island forever.
Hurley says, “Sure, dude,” and Desmond laughs.
He sails for four and a half days before it rains, and when it rains it doesn’t stop.
That night there’s lightening, flashing and crackling, but it doesn’t illuminate the rocks that jut up into the dark. He barely blinks before he’s thrown up, up and out. On a sharp rock, Desmond’s back cracks.
He sees Penny’s face above him, and he’ll never know if she’s real or not, but she’s there and he smiles before he closes his eyes.
***
It takes Kate four months and seven days to die.
She’s in the hospital when it ends; no strength and no flowers on the table. Can’t move without a wheelchair after the surgery. Inoperable - that’s what they called it. She just laughed.
If you could see me now, Jack.
Maybe he could have fixed her. She doesn’t know, can’t know, but that’s alright.
She can rest now.
***
Miles is walking through a graveyard when it happens.
The ground is wet with slippery grass, and he drops his bag when he falls. A six foot hole in the ground, complete with satin lining and a heavy wood lid that closes with a bang. Closes, and won’t open again no matter how hard Miles pushes.
There’s no air, he has to hold his breath as he thinks.
What a fantastic way to die.
Then, what if someone like him walks past and hears some stupid guy thinking about how there’s’ no air? He doesn’t want his last thoughts to be obvious, doesn’t want to be remembered as a frantic idiot, and now his vision is blurring and his consciousness is fading.
Oh, crap.
Is the last thought of Miles Straume.
***
How old he is exactly, Richard doesn’t know, but his hair is white and his eyes are tired.
It’s been a good life, this second one, and the island has faded from his old man’s mind, just a memory. Fuzzy and vague; a bad dream that he can push away. It’s been so long.
He dies in his sleep, and he dies happy.
***
Sawyer turns around when he hears his name. he turns and stares at the gun held to his chest, holds up his hands with a “whoa, easy there!”
The man, young, is red in the face, livid, breathing hard. Finger on the trigger.
“Hold up a minute, cowboy. Whatever it is you think I did, I’m sure I’m very sorry.”
Smirking was the worst move to make, because the gun goes off and Sawyer falls back. He’s bleeding on the ground when the man hands him a letter.
Dear Mister Sawyer,
it reads.
James shakes his head.
“No, no, I… I always made sure there wasn’t no kid.”
The gun’s still pointed at him and the man is crying now.
“I didn’t… I didn’t…”
James is breathing heaven and his shirt’s stained read.
“I ain’t him,” he gasps.
“I ain’t Sawyer.”
***
Aaron is five when he tells Claire, “You’re not my mommy.”
She goes to pick him up and he takes a step back, and that’s when she runs. That night, with a note for her mom on the table and nothing in her hands.
She runs, she runs, and then she jumps.
She survives the impact, but it doesn’t take long to drown.
***
When Hurley gets sick, he’s the same age he’s always been.
It’s funny, he thinks. He protects this place. He’s the guardian. The fairy godmother, if you will. He should have a certain immunity. Maybe if he’d shut himself away like Jacob, tight in his own little world, but screw that. He doesn’t like to be alone.
There’s a nurse that came in on a ship a month ago, Mona’s her name, and she doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. Hurley just sits in the shade and waits - to get better or to die, he’s not sure which.
There’s a man with shaggy blond hair and an English accent; he stepped right off that same boat.
Hurley gives him a cup and tells him to drink.
“Now you’re like me,” he says, and lays his head back.
***
Ben’s fingers are slipping and his feet are dangling, and he thinks, the island finally got me, before he lets go.
***
Flight 424 is scheduled to land in L.A. at 5:48 and hits turbulence at 4:23.
Frank flicks a switch and hears the ping of seatbelt signs lighting up, seat by seat. The plane lurches again, doesn’t stop, and there’s a crash and the whistle of flying metal, a chorus of screams.
Frank bites his lip and braces himself.
Here we go again.
Author: longerthanwedo
Characters: Desmond, Kate, Miles, Richard, Sawyer, Claire, Hurley, Ben, Frank
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Everybody dies, Jack. Some before you, some long after you. A flurry of last moments, of decided fates. Years and countries apart, the survivors meet their ends.
Spoilers: Post “The End”; mild spoilers for the entire series.
Notes: And here it is, my first ever LOST fic. Created to answer the most potent (in my opinion) post-series question: how does it end? As you can imagine, this is angst-heavy but it has its optimistic moments as well. Feedback is greatly appreciated.
Desmond leaves the island minutes after he wakes up.
There’s a sailboat on the west beach, one that they’d never seen before, weather beaten and he can’t read the words on the side. He asks Hurley if he can leave, go back to his family. Says he’s done with the island forever.
Hurley says, “Sure, dude,” and Desmond laughs.
He sails for four and a half days before it rains, and when it rains it doesn’t stop.
That night there’s lightening, flashing and crackling, but it doesn’t illuminate the rocks that jut up into the dark. He barely blinks before he’s thrown up, up and out. On a sharp rock, Desmond’s back cracks.
He sees Penny’s face above him, and he’ll never know if she’s real or not, but she’s there and he smiles before he closes his eyes.
***
It takes Kate four months and seven days to die.
She’s in the hospital when it ends; no strength and no flowers on the table. Can’t move without a wheelchair after the surgery. Inoperable - that’s what they called it. She just laughed.
If you could see me now, Jack.
Maybe he could have fixed her. She doesn’t know, can’t know, but that’s alright.
She can rest now.
***
Miles is walking through a graveyard when it happens.
The ground is wet with slippery grass, and he drops his bag when he falls. A six foot hole in the ground, complete with satin lining and a heavy wood lid that closes with a bang. Closes, and won’t open again no matter how hard Miles pushes.
There’s no air, he has to hold his breath as he thinks.
What a fantastic way to die.
Then, what if someone like him walks past and hears some stupid guy thinking about how there’s’ no air? He doesn’t want his last thoughts to be obvious, doesn’t want to be remembered as a frantic idiot, and now his vision is blurring and his consciousness is fading.
Oh, crap.
Is the last thought of Miles Straume.
***
How old he is exactly, Richard doesn’t know, but his hair is white and his eyes are tired.
It’s been a good life, this second one, and the island has faded from his old man’s mind, just a memory. Fuzzy and vague; a bad dream that he can push away. It’s been so long.
He dies in his sleep, and he dies happy.
***
Sawyer turns around when he hears his name. he turns and stares at the gun held to his chest, holds up his hands with a “whoa, easy there!”
The man, young, is red in the face, livid, breathing hard. Finger on the trigger.
“Hold up a minute, cowboy. Whatever it is you think I did, I’m sure I’m very sorry.”
Smirking was the worst move to make, because the gun goes off and Sawyer falls back. He’s bleeding on the ground when the man hands him a letter.
Dear Mister Sawyer,
it reads.
James shakes his head.
“No, no, I… I always made sure there wasn’t no kid.”
The gun’s still pointed at him and the man is crying now.
“I didn’t… I didn’t…”
James is breathing heaven and his shirt’s stained read.
“I ain’t him,” he gasps.
“I ain’t Sawyer.”
***
Aaron is five when he tells Claire, “You’re not my mommy.”
She goes to pick him up and he takes a step back, and that’s when she runs. That night, with a note for her mom on the table and nothing in her hands.
She runs, she runs, and then she jumps.
She survives the impact, but it doesn’t take long to drown.
***
When Hurley gets sick, he’s the same age he’s always been.
It’s funny, he thinks. He protects this place. He’s the guardian. The fairy godmother, if you will. He should have a certain immunity. Maybe if he’d shut himself away like Jacob, tight in his own little world, but screw that. He doesn’t like to be alone.
There’s a nurse that came in on a ship a month ago, Mona’s her name, and she doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. Hurley just sits in the shade and waits - to get better or to die, he’s not sure which.
There’s a man with shaggy blond hair and an English accent; he stepped right off that same boat.
Hurley gives him a cup and tells him to drink.
“Now you’re like me,” he says, and lays his head back.
***
Ben’s fingers are slipping and his feet are dangling, and he thinks, the island finally got me, before he lets go.
***
Flight 424 is scheduled to land in L.A. at 5:48 and hits turbulence at 4:23.
Frank flicks a switch and hears the ping of seatbelt signs lighting up, seat by seat. The plane lurches again, doesn’t stop, and there’s a crash and the whistle of flying metal, a chorus of screams.
Frank bites his lip and braces himself.
Here we go again.