Me vs. You
Title: Me vs. You
Characters: Jack, Richard, Frank, Sun, Miles, Hurley, Ben, Illana with a mention of Libby
Rating: PG (one bad word)
Summary: Jack and Richard get into a fight. This leads to bonding time between the Ajira survivors.
Notes: Pretend "The Package" had never happened and they are still on the beach. Went longer than planned since I'm working on my writing skills. :)
Jack was furious as he stormed through the jungle. He carelessly whacked red-green-orange-purple plants out of his path, relishing the bugs he squashed under his heavy boot. He imagined that each hard shell he crushed was him. Jack knew he could not stand to be in the man's, Richard's, presence a second longer. After the blow out they had just had in front of everyone at the beach, just acting as if nothing had happened wasn't going to work. When he felt his hands shake as they longed to make fists to punch and bared his teeth to bite, he knew he had to move. Keeping his blood flowing and using his energy positively was more productive than both the men beating the living snot out of each other.
And their fight hadn't even been about anything important. However, staying on the beach for days on end left much room for grating on each others' nerves. Sun, Ben, and Illana frequently sniped at one another. The women would start sniping about cooking dinner or taking inventory and suddenly Sun would be yelling in Korean and Illana would be screaming in Latin. Every time Ben tried to step in (Frank and Hurley knew to stay out of it), then would turn to him and blame him for all of their problems, both current and well-worn. At this point, Richard was pretty sure he knew how to say, "Get out of my face, bitch" in both languages.
But this time was different. This time, Jack and Richard had become at odds. Like all arguments, the topic had started out as something completely benign. Richard had speculated about their purposes on the Island. He felt that his had to do with his past. Ever since Isabella's death from tuberculosis 140 years ago and the death of the pharmacist on his hands, he had never been able to forgive himself. He explained how he had seen his arrival here as a way to serve someone who was good and believed in the good of others. Jack put in his two cent's worth by saying that this Island would not only not give him or anyone else absolution, but would also bring the people you love pain, suffering, and misfortune.
Richard conceded that although they lived in troubling times, he couldn't believe that everything hadn't happened for some sort of reason. Both Frank and Hurley backed away at this point. Miles moved closer in case fists flew. The women rolled their eyes, for once in complete agreement that boys would always act like boys no matter their age or circumstance.
It wasn't as if Richard didn't agree in some ways with Jack, but Jack exacerbated the situation further by saying that Richard hadn't done a single purposeful thing even before the 815 flight crashed in 2004.
"If you knew what I've been through, what I've sacrificed, you'd be down on your knees thanking me," grit Richard.
Anyone with half a mind could tell just from the way he was standing that he was ready for a fisticuffs fight. His right leg was placed in a wide stance from his left one with his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. His chest heaved as he tried to take deep breaths, his want of peace greater than his instinct to pummel Jack until he saw his side of the issue.
On the other hand, Jack was getting just as worked up. His jaw was clenched tightly as he too fought against the smoke rising inside of him. He ignored the voice in his ear urging him to do it do it do it.
"If you're so great, why didn't you intervene and get Jacob sooner? Maybe then, Ben wouldn't've stabbed him in the chest," retorted Jack.
With a resounding yell, Richard flew at Jack, landed on top of him, and let his fists finally do the talking. And though he would regret it later, the sense of power overwhelmed him. It felt better than any high he had ever experienced. He was finally going to make someone listen to him. But suddenly, he was thrown on his back; Jack refused to go down without a fight. He was finally going to make someone listen to him.
Their companions, not having any energy to separate them or yell at them to stop, looked on. What would be the point of following decorum? Weren't they all going to die here? So what if it came sooner for Jack and Richard? Frank and Hurley decided to stop it, however, when societal guilt and gentlemanly chivalry kicked in.
"Dude, it's not worth it. We kinda need you both here if we're gonna get outta here," said Hurley as he dragged Jack away.
Though they were no longer in contact, they shot each other withering looks as they were pulled apart. Jack yanked himself from Hurley's hands and that was when he decided to take a long trek in the jungle.
"He'll be back, won't he?" asked Illana to Sun.
"Of course. We always stick around when we fight," she answered with a playful laugh.
Illana cracked a smile.
"That is true," she sighed.
"What's the matter?" asked Sun.
"Boys are the same, no matter what country they are from."
The two women both let out another laughing, thinking that perhaps they had found something that they had in common.
Frank, Hurley, and Miles were just confused.
"I don't know what the hell has been going on here. Aren't those two always bitching at each other?" Frank asked.
Miles held up his hands. Though he loved women and didn't even mind too much when he spent time with them, he knew he would never be able to understand the way a woman's mind worked. For guy, if you had a tiff like Richard and Jack had gotten to, that was it. No more friendship. No more hassle. No 'I'm sorry's or kiss-and-make-up's. But women? Women preferred to back stab, use their hidden claws to rip apart other women, and turn around and be sun shine and roses together. Women who hated each others guts would spend hours and hours together. It just didn't make any sense.
"Yep," Miles answered, biting into a sweet, juicy mango.
Miles scanned Frank's hand.
"I'm guessing that's why you're not married?"
"Look," he said, "I like women as much as the next guy, but living with them and seeing the way they treat other women? No. It's just too much trouble for me."
The clinked two mangoes together as if they were ice cold, foamy mugs of beer.
Miles suddenly looked upset. He debated whether or not he should tell them. After all, he wasn't typically the kind of guy to be talking about his feelings...Especially with two other dudes. He decided to bite the bullet and just fess up anyway.
"Yeah, but I've got a girl back home...," he trailed off, not wanting to reveal too much.
"What's her name?" asked Hurley.
At this point, Ben had migrated away from the battle site and over to the circle of men. Though he still felt as if he was on the outskirts of the beach's little therapy session, he still wanted to hear what they had to say. Ben hoped he just might be able to jump in. Just maybe...
"Analise. Analise Chan. What about you Hugo? You got a girl?" he asked.
He didn't know. He didn't know what had happened in the hatch three years ago. Back when they were still getting to know everyone. Back when they all believed a hatch would save them and that Bernard could make a big S.O.S. in the sand. Yeah, there had been a girl. Her name was Libby. The sad part was that he had never had the chance to know her last name or really anything else about her. Their first date had been ruined since, well, she was shot in the stomach when Michael had switched sides.
"Who's Michael?" asked Miles.
When he asked his question, it was when he noticed that Ben was lurking near them. Miles made eye contact, about to ask what the hell he was up to now, but Ben wouldn't meet his eye. Miles was suspicious, but didn't interrupt his friend's story.
"Oh, yeah. You probably knew him as Kevin Johnson. Anyway..."
Though Miles often got annoyed with Hurley, he felt only sadness. He had found a woman who respected him and genuinely loved him, and once again the Island's favorite punching bag had come in to screw up someone else's happiness for his own personal gain.
"Way to go," shot Miles over his shoulder at the cringing man. The story had done nothing to earn him points. Ben slunk back to his tent as if he had been kicked.
"Dude, it was a long time ago. There's nothing...nothing anyone can do about it. She's at peace now. We buried her in our cemetery."
Miles suddenly had an idea.
"What me to see what she was thinking?" he asked. "It's the least I could do."
Hurley's face broke out into a smile that neither man had seen since they were chumming around in Dharma jumpsuits.
"That would really mean alot to me."
They stood from their places on the sand and a log that had fallen near their shelters. He warned Hurley that there would be a good chance that she might not have been thinking about him. It could even been something really sad that he wouldn't want to hear.
"No. I really do wanna know."
Hurley led Frank and Miles to her grave site. Instantly Miles had to block out thoughts and exclamations that started to enter his head. Was that Locke who was chanting 'paralyzed?' Last time he had seen the real Locke, he had been walking around even though he had been in a wheel chair prior to the crash. When he was alerted as to which one was hers, he leaned down and put his forehead to the ground, ignoring the patches of slimy loan and little black ants crawling around.
To his observers, he twitched a few times and his fingers curled and uncurled as he tried to look into Libby's thoughts. The longer they have been in the ground, the longer it takes for for him to decipher what they were thinking. When he felt as if he had finally read her mind, he suddenly felt a sharp, shooting pain his stomach. A feeling of bile and betrayal burned the back of his throat. Then he jumped back as if he had been slapped, panting heavily.
Hurley and Frank looked at him expectantly.
"She was thinking about a boat. She had sold a boat to a guy named Desmond. Does that mean anything to you?"
Rumors of 'not Penny's boat' and Desmond drinking himself into a stupor suddenly made everything make sense. Desmond and Penny had been the ones who had rescued them in the first place.
"Actually, yeah. It does. Desmond was the guy from the hatch. He's the one who would push the button. We haven't seen him in three years though. Thanks man."
Miles, in a fit of rare emotion, clapped his hand on his friend's shoulder.
"No problem."
Hurley turned around, looking out over the ocean. The sea was just as blue, just as green, and clear as it had been their first day. Same sun and misty jungle. Same whispering voices to scare you like the little kids did to each other on Halloween. It was enough to make anyone weary of having to fight, literally fight, to survive.
"We gotta do something," he declared.
"You have a plan?" asked Frank.
"No. But maybe if we get Richard and Jack to make up, maybe we could do something together."
"Are you kidding?" asked Miles. "You really wanna go out there, alone, to find Jack? That's a suicide mission."
"Hey, dude, live together, die alone."
With that, Hurley exited the graveyard and made his way back to camp. He hoped the two men would follow him...They did.
Stepping over some rocks in his way, Frank posed his own question, "Any idea where that came from?"
"Nope. It's probably some secret Island philosophy that I have a feeling we're gonna learn real soon."
Deep down, they knew Hurley was right. They wouldn't be able to figure out what they were supposed to do unless they stopped their ridiculous bickering and actually started working together. And maybe, just maybe, they would make it out of here alive.
Characters: Jack, Richard, Frank, Sun, Miles, Hurley, Ben, Illana with a mention of Libby
Rating: PG (one bad word)
Summary: Jack and Richard get into a fight. This leads to bonding time between the Ajira survivors.
Notes: Pretend "The Package" had never happened and they are still on the beach. Went longer than planned since I'm working on my writing skills. :)
Jack was furious as he stormed through the jungle. He carelessly whacked red-green-orange-purple plants out of his path, relishing the bugs he squashed under his heavy boot. He imagined that each hard shell he crushed was him. Jack knew he could not stand to be in the man's, Richard's, presence a second longer. After the blow out they had just had in front of everyone at the beach, just acting as if nothing had happened wasn't going to work. When he felt his hands shake as they longed to make fists to punch and bared his teeth to bite, he knew he had to move. Keeping his blood flowing and using his energy positively was more productive than both the men beating the living snot out of each other.
And their fight hadn't even been about anything important. However, staying on the beach for days on end left much room for grating on each others' nerves. Sun, Ben, and Illana frequently sniped at one another. The women would start sniping about cooking dinner or taking inventory and suddenly Sun would be yelling in Korean and Illana would be screaming in Latin. Every time Ben tried to step in (Frank and Hurley knew to stay out of it), then would turn to him and blame him for all of their problems, both current and well-worn. At this point, Richard was pretty sure he knew how to say, "Get out of my face, bitch" in both languages.
But this time was different. This time, Jack and Richard had become at odds. Like all arguments, the topic had started out as something completely benign. Richard had speculated about their purposes on the Island. He felt that his had to do with his past. Ever since Isabella's death from tuberculosis 140 years ago and the death of the pharmacist on his hands, he had never been able to forgive himself. He explained how he had seen his arrival here as a way to serve someone who was good and believed in the good of others. Jack put in his two cent's worth by saying that this Island would not only not give him or anyone else absolution, but would also bring the people you love pain, suffering, and misfortune.
Richard conceded that although they lived in troubling times, he couldn't believe that everything hadn't happened for some sort of reason. Both Frank and Hurley backed away at this point. Miles moved closer in case fists flew. The women rolled their eyes, for once in complete agreement that boys would always act like boys no matter their age or circumstance.
It wasn't as if Richard didn't agree in some ways with Jack, but Jack exacerbated the situation further by saying that Richard hadn't done a single purposeful thing even before the 815 flight crashed in 2004.
"If you knew what I've been through, what I've sacrificed, you'd be down on your knees thanking me," grit Richard.
Anyone with half a mind could tell just from the way he was standing that he was ready for a fisticuffs fight. His right leg was placed in a wide stance from his left one with his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. His chest heaved as he tried to take deep breaths, his want of peace greater than his instinct to pummel Jack until he saw his side of the issue.
On the other hand, Jack was getting just as worked up. His jaw was clenched tightly as he too fought against the smoke rising inside of him. He ignored the voice in his ear urging him to do it do it do it.
"If you're so great, why didn't you intervene and get Jacob sooner? Maybe then, Ben wouldn't've stabbed him in the chest," retorted Jack.
With a resounding yell, Richard flew at Jack, landed on top of him, and let his fists finally do the talking. And though he would regret it later, the sense of power overwhelmed him. It felt better than any high he had ever experienced. He was finally going to make someone listen to him. But suddenly, he was thrown on his back; Jack refused to go down without a fight. He was finally going to make someone listen to him.
Their companions, not having any energy to separate them or yell at them to stop, looked on. What would be the point of following decorum? Weren't they all going to die here? So what if it came sooner for Jack and Richard? Frank and Hurley decided to stop it, however, when societal guilt and gentlemanly chivalry kicked in.
"Dude, it's not worth it. We kinda need you both here if we're gonna get outta here," said Hurley as he dragged Jack away.
Though they were no longer in contact, they shot each other withering looks as they were pulled apart. Jack yanked himself from Hurley's hands and that was when he decided to take a long trek in the jungle.
"He'll be back, won't he?" asked Illana to Sun.
"Of course. We always stick around when we fight," she answered with a playful laugh.
Illana cracked a smile.
"That is true," she sighed.
"What's the matter?" asked Sun.
"Boys are the same, no matter what country they are from."
The two women both let out another laughing, thinking that perhaps they had found something that they had in common.
Frank, Hurley, and Miles were just confused.
"I don't know what the hell has been going on here. Aren't those two always bitching at each other?" Frank asked.
Miles held up his hands. Though he loved women and didn't even mind too much when he spent time with them, he knew he would never be able to understand the way a woman's mind worked. For guy, if you had a tiff like Richard and Jack had gotten to, that was it. No more friendship. No more hassle. No 'I'm sorry's or kiss-and-make-up's. But women? Women preferred to back stab, use their hidden claws to rip apart other women, and turn around and be sun shine and roses together. Women who hated each others guts would spend hours and hours together. It just didn't make any sense.
"Yep," Miles answered, biting into a sweet, juicy mango.
Miles scanned Frank's hand.
"I'm guessing that's why you're not married?"
"Look," he said, "I like women as much as the next guy, but living with them and seeing the way they treat other women? No. It's just too much trouble for me."
The clinked two mangoes together as if they were ice cold, foamy mugs of beer.
Miles suddenly looked upset. He debated whether or not he should tell them. After all, he wasn't typically the kind of guy to be talking about his feelings...Especially with two other dudes. He decided to bite the bullet and just fess up anyway.
"Yeah, but I've got a girl back home...," he trailed off, not wanting to reveal too much.
"What's her name?" asked Hurley.
At this point, Ben had migrated away from the battle site and over to the circle of men. Though he still felt as if he was on the outskirts of the beach's little therapy session, he still wanted to hear what they had to say. Ben hoped he just might be able to jump in. Just maybe...
"Analise. Analise Chan. What about you Hugo? You got a girl?" he asked.
He didn't know. He didn't know what had happened in the hatch three years ago. Back when they were still getting to know everyone. Back when they all believed a hatch would save them and that Bernard could make a big S.O.S. in the sand. Yeah, there had been a girl. Her name was Libby. The sad part was that he had never had the chance to know her last name or really anything else about her. Their first date had been ruined since, well, she was shot in the stomach when Michael had switched sides.
"Who's Michael?" asked Miles.
When he asked his question, it was when he noticed that Ben was lurking near them. Miles made eye contact, about to ask what the hell he was up to now, but Ben wouldn't meet his eye. Miles was suspicious, but didn't interrupt his friend's story.
"Oh, yeah. You probably knew him as Kevin Johnson. Anyway..."
Though Miles often got annoyed with Hurley, he felt only sadness. He had found a woman who respected him and genuinely loved him, and once again the Island's favorite punching bag had come in to screw up someone else's happiness for his own personal gain.
"Way to go," shot Miles over his shoulder at the cringing man. The story had done nothing to earn him points. Ben slunk back to his tent as if he had been kicked.
"Dude, it was a long time ago. There's nothing...nothing anyone can do about it. She's at peace now. We buried her in our cemetery."
Miles suddenly had an idea.
"What me to see what she was thinking?" he asked. "It's the least I could do."
Hurley's face broke out into a smile that neither man had seen since they were chumming around in Dharma jumpsuits.
"That would really mean alot to me."
They stood from their places on the sand and a log that had fallen near their shelters. He warned Hurley that there would be a good chance that she might not have been thinking about him. It could even been something really sad that he wouldn't want to hear.
"No. I really do wanna know."
Hurley led Frank and Miles to her grave site. Instantly Miles had to block out thoughts and exclamations that started to enter his head. Was that Locke who was chanting 'paralyzed?' Last time he had seen the real Locke, he had been walking around even though he had been in a wheel chair prior to the crash. When he was alerted as to which one was hers, he leaned down and put his forehead to the ground, ignoring the patches of slimy loan and little black ants crawling around.
To his observers, he twitched a few times and his fingers curled and uncurled as he tried to look into Libby's thoughts. The longer they have been in the ground, the longer it takes for for him to decipher what they were thinking. When he felt as if he had finally read her mind, he suddenly felt a sharp, shooting pain his stomach. A feeling of bile and betrayal burned the back of his throat. Then he jumped back as if he had been slapped, panting heavily.
Hurley and Frank looked at him expectantly.
"She was thinking about a boat. She had sold a boat to a guy named Desmond. Does that mean anything to you?"
Rumors of 'not Penny's boat' and Desmond drinking himself into a stupor suddenly made everything make sense. Desmond and Penny had been the ones who had rescued them in the first place.
"Actually, yeah. It does. Desmond was the guy from the hatch. He's the one who would push the button. We haven't seen him in three years though. Thanks man."
Miles, in a fit of rare emotion, clapped his hand on his friend's shoulder.
"No problem."
Hurley turned around, looking out over the ocean. The sea was just as blue, just as green, and clear as it had been their first day. Same sun and misty jungle. Same whispering voices to scare you like the little kids did to each other on Halloween. It was enough to make anyone weary of having to fight, literally fight, to survive.
"We gotta do something," he declared.
"You have a plan?" asked Frank.
"No. But maybe if we get Richard and Jack to make up, maybe we could do something together."
"Are you kidding?" asked Miles. "You really wanna go out there, alone, to find Jack? That's a suicide mission."
"Hey, dude, live together, die alone."
With that, Hurley exited the graveyard and made his way back to camp. He hoped the two men would follow him...They did.
Stepping over some rocks in his way, Frank posed his own question, "Any idea where that came from?"
"Nope. It's probably some secret Island philosophy that I have a feeling we're gonna learn real soon."
Deep down, they knew Hurley was right. They wouldn't be able to figure out what they were supposed to do unless they stopped their ridiculous bickering and actually started working together. And maybe, just maybe, they would make it out of here alive.