Dance of the Dead Part Two
Title: Dance of the Dead. Part two of two.
Rating: NC-17 to be safe due to language, brief mention of sex with possible minor and dark plot.
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Alex/Goodwin and hints of Alex/Pickett and Ana/Goodwin
Word Count: 6,448
Warning: Dark themes, sex with possible minor and foul language.
Summary: Picks up where Part one finished up leading through to the end of Season two.
Authors Note: I'm not that happy with this section of the story and would love some feedback on it (my grammer is bad I know)! Also I own nothing!
| PART 1 |
Dance of the Dead Part two of two.
I had been surprised to see Goodwin had slept in my room the night after the training. However, after an awkward good morning he left and I saw little of him over the following few weeks as I recovered.
Once Tom gave me the all clear I was assigned to do a perimeter check with Pickett. I was strangely excited to be allowed out of the confines of the medical station.
I made my way to the camp of Yurts wearing a white shirt tied off at my midriff and a pair of faded blue jeans. I carried my boots wanting to practice walking and leaving no tracks.
As I approached the rock with the hole in it I was feeling fantastic, fresh air flooding my lungs, natural light caressing my skin.
“You know you would probably be more successful at sneaking around if you weren’t wearing a bright white shirt. It would also help if you stopped inhaling so loudly too.”
I jumped startled by Goodwin’s appearance, I hadn’t heard him approach but then I wasn’t supposed too.
“Who said I was trying to sneak around?”
“Why else would you be carrying them?” He indicated at the boots in my hand with an incline of his head.
“I just…” I trailed off deciding to change tack. “Have you been following me?”
A smile spread across his face. “Only for the last ten minutes or so. I kept thinking you would notice me any moment.”
I brushed my hair back from my face trying to mask my embarrassment.
“It’s been so long since I’ve been allowed out.” I offered in way of an excuse.
His hand was heavy and warm on my shoulder. “It’s ok. You ready to check the perimeter?”
“I thought Pickett…”
“We swapped. I’ve got some fishing to do and it seemed stupid for both of us to go out. I thought I might as well check the perimeter before hand.”
I nodded it did make sense and was something they did regularly. “So why you this far out? I was supposed to meet Pickett at the Yurts.”
“I fancied a walk. Christ, what is this? The Spanish inquisition?” A lazy smile blessed his face for a moment.
I looked away from him to the rock wall and thought, not for the first time, that the hole looked like a window from a long forgotten, giant’s house. Despite my averted gaze I felt Goodwin’s eyes warming my skin more effectively then the sun ever could, but I refused to meet them.
He finally broke the silence. “Shall we collect the nets then head out?”
“Sure.”
We walked towards the camp in silence for a few minutes.
”It’s nice to see you out and about again, Alex.” His voice sounded genuine as he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “You healed quickly.”
It was true within days nearly all evidence of my torture training had disappeared. All accept a small scar where my eyebrow had split. Even that was healed and the hair beginning to grow back. Two weeks later and all that remained was the tangle of raised white scars on my back from my lashings. In a few months they too would disappear.
“Thank you. Although I’m sure I wouldn’t be so well healed were it not for your healing hands.”
His nod was stiff as we arrived at the yurts. “Stay here; I will fetch the nets and some supplies. You’ve got nothing about an all nighter?”
I shook my head actually thrilled at the prospect of sleeping under the stars after weeks of living with the harsh lighting at the station.
I watched as he made his way to the supplies yurt. He moved with a kind of feline grace, his square, masculine shoulders hinting at the power of his body. His masculinity made me throb for the briefest second.
Suddenly I felt as if I hadn’t seen him in forever and I drank in his movements like a woman in a drought dying of thirst. I considered whether Goodwin had been busy these last few weeks or if he had just been avoiding me after what had happened. If the latter was the case, as I suspected it to be, why then had he swapped with Pickett? Could he really just have done what made more sense or had he - as I found myself secretly hoping - just missed me?
I wasn’t able to spend long pondering this conundrum as he soon returned carrying two bags. I took one from him and slung it over my shoulder without a word.
We headed out walking in a strained silence that was screaming to be broken and seeing as he was making no effort to do so it seemed like I would have to take the initiative.
“Been busy?” I asked eventually.
Goodwin stopped pulling his rucksack off of his back and riffling through it before finding his canteen of water and taking a gulp. I wondered if he was using it as an excuse to bide his time while he thought of an answer.
“We’d gotten short of supplies so a few of us went hunting and searching for fruit.” He offered me some water.
As I took it my long, thin fingers brushed his thick, strong ones for a mere moment; long enough for my body to jolt.
I took a sip of his water as I tried to quash my disappointment; he hadn’t thought of me during my absence let alone missed me. Hunting outings like the one he described rarely last longer than a week as it leaves the camp prone and vulnerable.
“I wondered where Pickett had been. He had promised to come and keep me company.” I eyed him looking for a reaction. “I missed him.”
Nothing. No reaction what so ever. All I got for my efforts at raising jealousy was a blank expression that betrayed none of his thoughts or emotions. Fuck.
“Henry has kept him busy. He’s been keeping an eye on the Swan station.” He took back his water canteen and screwed the lid back on before thrusting it back into his bag.
“Shame.” I said looking at him coyly, a look I had seen the entertainers use to beguile the men. “I missed him. It was lonely, to say nothing of boring, down in that medical station.”
Goodwin shouldered his bag again and began to walk with me falling into step behind him. A muscle in his jaw clenched and unclenched a few times.
“I’m sorry I deprived you of his company today.” He said finally, his voice oddly tight and measured.
“It’s ok. I’m glad you did.”
He looked at me confusion flickering across his face before he stooped down to look at something on the floor. It was a careless track left by one of ours so he didn’t look at it long before covering it up and moving on.
It seems that one of the most important tasks we are given while scouting out the area is to make sure we clear up any tracks that might betray us and our whereabouts.
I had once asked who we didn’t want to find us to which Pickett had replied mysteriously “The others.”
I never asked who these others were.
*
It was dark when we finally reached the beach. It would take us half a day’s walk to get back to the camp of yurts so we decided to spend the night on the beach under the soft glow of the full moon.
I set about making a fire while Goodwin caught us some fish. Some we would eat tonight and some we would dry back at camp.
It didn’t take me long to complete my task so I went about preparing the sand for a bed by removing stones and twigs and making sure it was flat before laying down some tough boar skin to protect us from sand mite.
Once I had done this I noticed Goodwin heading towards me bearing his impressive catch; this beach was rarely fished.
“Hungry?” He asked.
“Starving.” I replied noticing he had already prepared some to cook.
We sat in a companionable, if hungry, silence as we watched our dinner cook, the air heady with smoke, making my eyes dry. The fire spat ruby ash which climbed upwards, dancing towards the moon like tiny fairies before fading to nothing, not having reached its destination. Sat there I wondered why I had never noticed how beautiful fire was before; its smell, the soft crackle of burning twigs, seemed to me at that moment, the most exquisite experience on the whole island.
The fish didn’t take long to cook and was so delicious and fresh we wolfed it down hungrily, making me sigh happily.
“God, I’be missed this.” I said truthfully as I swallow the last morsel.
Goodwin looked at me for a while before replying quietly. “Me too.”
Quiet though the words may have been but they still made my stomach lurch and my heart flop almost painfully.
We continued to watch the fire in silence before Goodwin turned to me, an odd wistful expression gracing his face taking years from it.
“Do you know how to dance?”
I tilted my head to the side in interest. I had heard entertainers talk of dancing and I remember one saying to me as a child that someone like me, a child found abandoned in the jungle, would probably never experience what its like to dance. She had looked sad for me.
“No.” I reply unable to keep the trace of regret from tingeing my voice.
Goodwin stood abruptly so he towered above me, holding out his hand for me to take. I took it wondering if it was the smoke that made me feel so sensual or whether it was all just a sweet, rapturous dream.
With gentleness uncharacteristic to the men of our community Goodwin guided my arm around his waist before doing this same with his own. The muscles in his back felt hard and taught against my fingers as I spanned them out wondering if I could soak up some of his strength, knowledge and wisdom through them.
He slowly took my other hand, pressing it fingertip to fingertip with his own before consuming it completely in his own.
His arm around arm waist pulled my body so close to his that we touched, making me gasp slightly.
“We need to be closer.” It was almost a whisper, low and breathy in my ear.
Carefully he began to move his feet in a way that indicated I should mimic his movements, which I did clumsily at first but quickly catching on - as I did with everything else - until we were moving in an almost perfect synchrony.
The heat emanating from his body made my skin tingle in an unfamiliar way, the pressure of his arm holding me against him caused my heart pound so hard I’m sure he must have felt it. I became increasingly aware of the power of the body pressed against my own and the thought of its strength thrilled me.
Tentatively he dropped my hand and touched my neck before sliding his hand up to my cheek, eyes probing mine all the while.
I sighed happily as I lent my cheek into his hand in a movement I don’t remember deciding to make. My eyes shut with the effort of containing my joy and pleasure at his unexpected touch.
“You are so beautiful.” His voice was thick. “I’ve never met anyone who amazes me like you do. No-one has ever held so much power over me and been so blissfully unaware of it.”
My already pounding heart threatened to burst unceremoniously from the confines of my ribcage, as he inclined his head towards my own.
His lips captured my bottom one, catching me unawares as he kissed me softly before becoming hungrier and more urging, emboldened by the response I found myself giving. It was the most amazing experience to be kissed by a man like Goodwin; at first soft and yielding and then wild and passionate. I raised my arm instinctively so I could thread my fingers through his surprisingly silky hair. The embers of lust I had felt for him for all those long years, sizzled under my skin encouraging my hands to wander.
I whimpered surprised when his hand captured mine, stopping its meanderings over his chest before he pulled away from me.
“Goodwin…” I begin tentatively before trailing off.
“Alex, stop me now before I can’t stop.” His imploring eyes bore into mine and it struck me for the first time that they were beautiful.
I was held steady in his gaze and decided that this couldn’t end there, not then, not so soon. So I did what I wanted to do most in the world and boldly kissed him, letting him know with my actions that I had no desire or inclination to stop him.
“You owe me this, Goodwin. I’ve wanted this too long to stop it now and as much as you may deny it, you have too.”
“Alex, I didn’t mean for this to happen.” It was more a groan of defeat than that of protest and the lust betrayed in his eyes, to say nothing of his body’s reaction to the proximity of mine, confirmed my argument.
“Well it has happened.” I whispered as I kissed his jaw line. “You can’t stop it now. It’s too late.”
“Aren’t you scared?” He breathes came out in ragged puffs as he submitted to my kisses before he entwined his thick fingers in my loose hair.
“Of what? My destiny?”
“No. Of me?”
“You, this, has been my destiny. You have been ever since I was abandoned. Why should I be scared of you?” A feeling of empowerment seeped through me.
I wasn’t too lust filled or empowered to miss the curious look of guilt that flashed across his face, however.
“Show me.” His voice was hoarse, urgent. “Show me where he hurt you.”
I blinked at him confused but unwilling to break the spell. I pulled my shirt over my head and turned my bare back to him, bearing my scars, my vulnerabilities, to his mercy for him to do with them as he saw fit.
To my surprise he knelt behind me, hands on my hips, as he kissed the scars tenderly. I melted against him as a strange emotion swelled inside me.
Goodwin taught me two things that night; how to dance and what it feels like to be made love to, as he took my virginity under the stars.
*
Flashes of the past, as I stare unseeing at the slight curve of the earth separating us, leads me to wonder if I would do anything differently could I travel to the past. It’s something I mull over as I begin to lay pebbles over his grave as a permanent marker of his presence under the earth.
After a few minutes I come to the conclusion I wouldn’t change a thing. If I did would I still be me? Would I still know the things I do?
*
No one would have known anything was different between Goodwin and me. Not even Pickett picked up on the looks we exchanged, the stolen kisses as we hunted together. No one was suspicious when we found any excuse to spend time away from camp alone. The secrecy was part of the thrill, part of the danger.
Fucking Goodwin, I found, was far more effective than hunting at letting vent to my frustrations. He showed me what pleasure - pure, selfish pleasure - felt like and hell, I couldn’t get enough.
“Alex, you are perfect.” Goodwin said looking down at me as he brushed stray hairs away from my eyes and the corner of my mouth. “You don’t know do you?”
“Know what?” I asked with a slight giggle, writhing beneath his weight.
“That I…” He paused momentarily. “That I care about you.”
I stopped giggling and squirming and instead grazed his cheek with my fingers, heart pounding. His words touched a part of me I didn’t even know existed. In his own way he loved me and I loved him. I had done ever since I had first laid eyes on him laughing with Pickett, I had realised then that it had been my mission all along to seduce him and make him care. It was my motivation. My driving force. The only problem was, as I hadn’t known how to go about it and had no experience or knowledge to draw upon how as to how to go about it; I had fumbled and dithered around with plans that were never put into action. All the while not realising, or dreaming, that I was succeeding all by myself without having to rely on covert plans or skills of seduction I knew nothing about.
It felt so good to finally have what I wanted the most. But I was waiting, always waiting for it to collapse around me. Waiting for something to go wrong. I just couldn’t believe that someone would like me; a child whose own mother didn’t want her, a child abandoned and left for death.
“Alex?”
I suddenly realised I was staring at him wordlessly. I tried to form some words but couldn’t find what needed to be said so I kissed him savagely. It was the way I had always imagined he would kiss me, but he was never savage or forceful, instead being kind, tender and imaginative with his caresses. I’m not sure if that excited me or disappointed me.
This time when we made love he didn’t withdraw before he came; telling me without words just how much I had bewitched him. He had fallen for me, so much so that he didn’t mind if I got pregnant and everyone found out about us.
As we lay basking in the afterglow, limbs and fingers entwined, he turned to me - he was always the first to break silence.
“We have to tell them.”
I knew deep down this would be his way of marking me as his own and warning the other men off. It should have angered me but it made me flush with pride; no one had wanted me all to themselves before.
I smiled at him indulgently. “I care for you too.”
*
When the others found out about us there was no fanfare and no big announcement. Our togetherness was grasped by everyone and no one passed comment or judgement. No one that is, except Ethan.
“Rather you than me.” He declared to Goodwin. “She’s dangerous and unstable. She will be your undoing.”
Goodwin just laughed him off.
“Just because you couldn’t handle her.” He had chided.
I wondered what exactly I had done to give them such an opinion of me but said nothing.
For the most part people were polite, even the people at the top of the pecking order, although you could tell they weren’t entirely happy. Monogamy is just not condoned among our people; it effects and changes people, makes them vulnerable.
Monogamy is seen as a reward only to be achieved through great acts of heroism or outstanding service to the community above and beyond protocol. Monogamy is granted to the great heroes in the form of the union bond. This allows a man to pick any woman, who is not already in a union, to spend the rest of their life and cultivate a family with. Of course the woman can decline the offer but it would be unwise to do so, unless they are an inner member where the standard of life is good. Union bonds are seen by many Entertainers to be the only means of bettering themselves. That said however, only two union ceremonies have ever taken place throughout our islands history.
Those who had concerns however, needn’t have worried for Goodwin was not monogamous and I always knew that I would have to share him with his job and whatever entertainer should happen to take his eye. I didn’t mind. After all it was I that he kept coming back to; it was me he shared a part of his soul with. I had little opportunity to be anything but monogamous however, with the other men folk neither wanting to brave Goodwin’s wrath or approach a non-Entertainer to do Entertainer duties. Although I am sure had I actively looked there would have been someone willing to oblige.
*
I had never realised how easy it would be to become complacent and take his fixation with me for granted. None-the-less it felt good to no longer have to fight for something I didn’t have. For I had what I wanted; the security that Goodwin offered, my place in this community was secure. Little did I realise all I had worked for, everything I had achieved would be torn away from me so soon after I had gained it and in the space of five minutes.
It’s funny that of all the days I have lived, the day of loss would be the one I would remember with an almost oppressive clarity.
It was a clear day; the air was fresh and warmed by the sun that sat high in the azure sky. Goodwin and I were on our way back from the beach. The scent of the sea salty air clung to our otherwise spotless clothes. Of course now we can only wear scruffy, uncomfortable clothes of brown and ingrained with dirt, on the orders of ‘Henry’. Even now, slumped on the ground, I miss the feel of cotton shirts against my bare breasts, the feel of the linen against my freshly shaven legs.
I remember what we were talking about on that fine day; food.
“I could really murder some boar.” I had remarked just a split second before it happened.
Goodwin made a movement as if to reply when out of nowhere we were engulfed by blinding white light. A high pitched hum assaulted us, threatening to split our eardrums apart.
I covered my ears with my hands, eyes wide with surprise and fear - was this the end of the world?
I looked at Goodwin whose face was one of puzzlement; if he was frightened he covered it well. His lips were moving, forming what I could only assume to be words. It seemed to go on forever, drowning out the world around me becoming the only thing that seemed to matter. In reality however, it must have taken mere minutes, maybe even seconds, before it disappeared as quickly and as curiously as it started. It seemed to me like a war cry, a warning of a coming danger far more hazardous than anything I had or would come across.
Once this brain splitting anomaly had passed all that remained as evidence of it ever having had occurred was the ring that remained in my ears for days to come.
I stared blankly off into the distance trying to regain my bearings. I refocused when I felt Goodwin’s hands grip my upper arms.
“Alex, you ok?”
I nodded wordlessly, unable to articulate the questions racing through my throbbing head.
I felt his hands release my arms before finding my self wrapped in his embrace with his chin resting on my head. The strength in his body against mine helped to calm the nebulas questions I had previously been unable to pin down.
“What the hell was that?” I asked as I overcame the shock.
“I would say it was from the idiots at The Swan station if I had to bet.” He gently set me at liberty and captured my eyes with his own. “I say we head back and find out…”
He trailed off interrupted by yet another unfamiliar sound, this time it was low whooshing sound that wasn’t quite so harsh on our ears. My eyes followed his to the sky where an odd looking steel bird like object, the likes of which I had ever only seen once, began to descend on us from the sky, breaking off into huge chunks along the way.
I gripped Goodwin’s arms, feet rooted to the spot.
“Wha…what’s that?” I asked eyes fixed on it lest it fall on me in some surprise attack.
“A plane.” He looked at me with an urgency that made panic rise in my depths. “It looks as if a piece fell into the sea. I’m going to head over to check if there are any survivors. This is just the kind of thing they hoped would happen. Head back to the camp as quickly as you can and tell them what’s happened.”
He fixed me with a look as if to check I was taking it all in before continuing.
“Tell them if there are survivors I will carry out the plan. Get them to send someone to the other beach, a huge piece fell there.” His voice was low and urgent.
He kissed me quickly. “Tell them, I will meet them at midnight in the clearing with a list. Quick Alex, go.”
I did as I was told and ran the whole way back to camp. My chest hurt and a feeling of emptiness settled over me like a cloak.
*
The news sent a buzz through camp that I had never experienced before. All of our camps and bases were kitted out ready should we need to set up residence in them urgently. Ethan was dispatched with orders to carry out the plan before I had arrived back to base. Henry did seem quietly pleased with Goodwin’s initiative and immediate action, so much so, a small smile spread across his face.
I accompanied Henry and Tom as they went to meet Goodwin that first night and several times after. I didn’t listen to their hushed conversation, instead I watched the others sleep unaware of the plan. Wondering if they knew that their innocence and hope was to be snatched from them in a way they could never begin to imagine. I pitied them.
We took them, preying on their weaknesses and vulnerabilities. They seemed powerless to stop us. We never saw them as threat. Correction; we never saw them as a threat until they killed our own. They were taken a little bit more seriously after that.
I watched them during the day. It had started as curiosity and soon evolved into a sick compulsion.
I couldn’t help it. I watched him with her. Ana. I remember the way he looked at her, the way his voice softened when he said her name. I hated her. I had some compassion for the others but not for her. As time advanced I began to wonder why we had hesitated to kill her. Without her the rest would fall as easy as rocks fall to the earth. I contemplated killing her myself. I fantasised about it at night, imagining the feel of her blood coating my hands, imagining the bug eyed look of surprise. I imagined the way her neck would sound as I snapped it, so quickly she wouldn’t know what had hit her.
I became obsessed with watching Goodwin become closer to her, all the while shutting himself from me. I would visit him sometimes. At first he told me how he was doing this for us. After this he was sure he would be granted the opportunity to form a union with me. As time passed in blurs of Ana-Lucia all talk turned to the mission and what a great potential ally she could prove.
“Cindy’s the only who suspects. She wants to join us in return for her continued alibi. Only she wants it to look like she was taken. Henry seems quite taken her initiative and balls. She would make an excellent addition to the cause.”
I had cast my eyes down. Goodwin’s past concerns about our mission and ethics seemed to have melted away while mine grew ever more solid.
“Its ok, Alex. We can trust Cindy. She’s already told them she remembers me being on the plane and set up Nathan as a scapegoat.”
How could I tell him what was really on my mind, it would make me seem weak and make him come to despise me.
As the days crawled on it only seemed to get worse. When Goodwin met with any of us to discuss the others he would inform them indignantly that Ana should be on the list.
“She’s a good person.” He would protest, more insistent by the day.
Henry wasn’t convinced but pleased by Goodwin’s fast results - Ethan had yet to secure one member of his group - he was willing to concede to Goodwin’s wish; Ana wouldn’t die.
It became clear that she was violating my territory; I was no longer safe so I questioned him about her furiously.
“Why her? She’s not a good person.”
“She’s special.” He replied calmly in the face of my ferocity serving only to infuriate me further.
“Remember when I was special to you?” I hit his chest with my palm. “Huh? Remember that?”
He laughed fending off my blows easily. “But Alex, you are just a child. Ana is a woman; you lack her strength, her depth.”
I recoiled from him as if I had been dealt a physical blow. How could he say such a thing?
“It was fun, Alex. But it was never going to last.”
It wasn’t his chest I hit this time, but his face with my fist. I would have done it again too had he not caught my arm easily.
I would show him what strength and depth really were and he would rue this day. Who was he to underestimate me?
My eyes felt like chips of ice set in the blazing heat of my face as I turned on him coldly. “I would say I’m sorry for hitting you but you deserved it and I would do it again. One day you will regret this, that’s a promise.”
My voice was low, menacing and cool, it took me a moment to realise this alien voice was coming from me.
His smile in reply was at first ferocious and then slightly softer. When he kissed me it was the rough, violent kiss I always knew he was capable of giving and secretly desired. My treacherous mouth responded for a brief moment - no longer - before I pulled away thumping his chest once more with my balled fist before stalking into the forest.
The next time I saw him he was arguing with Tom about Ana again. Tom claimed Ana Lucia was too dangerous, too unpredictable to keep around. Goodwin countered gruffly that she would be an incredible asset to us; she would be the strong woman we had lacked for years. His words snaked into my chest like an icy spike.
As I watched him defend her corner that one last time, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever fought for me like that.
*
I never spoke to him again but I watched him almost everyday hoping against hope that he would just wake up and become disenchanted with her like he had with me. It never happened; I never really expected it to. Even when she killed him he was as much under her spell as if she was a witch relying on black magic.
I watched as they struggled. He wasn’t trying to kill her, just over power her enough to take her to Pickett and some others who were waiting. They weren’t close enough to see what was to unfold even; they weren’t close enough to offer him any real support. I was, however. But I watched as they struggled and refused to help him. Why should I? If she was the good person he proclaimed her to be why would he need my help?
It was kill or die, and Goodwin failed to kill so there was only one option left. He saw me as he died; slowly, painfully, impaled on a spike. His eyes pleaded with me but I just smiled at him sweetly. He knew I could have helped him but had chosen not to and I was glad. I value my survival; Goodwin apparently did not. He loses; I win.
Once Ana Lucia had departed I stood over his body trying to repress the sneer on my lips. To Ana it had been kill or die. She had chosen correctly. He hadn’t.
Betrayal was evident in his eyes even then, while so close to death. What right did he have to feel betrayed? He got what was coming to him. No one betrayed him but himself with his blind stupidity.
“Who’s the weak one now, Goodwin? Who let their emotions blind them?” With that I left, heading off to meet with the others an odd sense of satisfaction falling over me.
My satisfaction wasn’t complete with his death, however. There was a lot more I had to do, more revenge to enact. I smiled to myself at the irony. The very skills they had taught me would be turned against them.
*
He had failed us, been detected. As such burying him wasn’t really high on our list of priorities. Besides, his rotting corpse served as a reminder to us. A reminder of the dangers these strangers posed to us, the danger of complacency and of free thinking. We are to do exactly as Henry tells us. But is Henry really just relaying a message from higher authorities; the mysterious leaders Pickett and Goodwin spoke of?
I am determined to pick the mysteries of this community apart. A community that prides itself of consisting of ‘good’ people, yet acts barbarous and savage. The very people we are fighting against, these Others, are far more civilised than we are. Just watching them makes my mouth water. The prospect of belonging with them and knowing more of their world makes my skin tingle in anticipation. The only stain on the white cloth of their community is their association with Ana Lucia. But she will soon no longer be a problem. She will disappear either by my hand or the seeds that I have sown.
We’re a lot alike Ana Lucia and I. We might have been friends had circumstances been different. But as it is it is because of her I have had to resume fighting.
I will show them all.
They can’t fuck with me anymore. I will do what Goodwin was too weak to do; I will pull them down.
I made my first move the day I helped Claire to escape. I laugh at the memory. In order to help her and get her to safety I had to lie as Goodwin had taught me, plan as he had instructed and sneak as he had demonstrated. I couldn’t let another innocent child fall into their grasping, greedy hands, so I took from them what they wanted most and no one suspected.
He had taught me all I needed to know and I now have a plan in place. I have to work fast though; I will begin to show soon.
I cast my eyes down at his makeshift grave. I had finally found the inclination to bury him and say my goodbyes after weeks off putting it off. I’m glad I have done it though; the process has been somewhat cathartic. I have lain to rest a lot of emotional baggage that has been weighing down on me like shoes made of rocks.
I feel free.
Funny thing love. It can sour so quickly and soon you can’t remember what separates it from hate. But I know deep down I loved him. I now recognise the need to let my anger for how he hurt me, belittled me, go. Everything that I have been through needs to be lain to rest before it stops strengthening me and begins to draw from me; making me weak. Besides I don’t only have myself to think of now. I move my right hand to cover my stomach protectively. My left hand moves of its own accord to touch the earth covering him, it sticks to my fingers.
“Thank you for all you have done, for all you taught me and for your final gift. I know now that you loved me, in your own special way. If it takes my last breath I will carry out your dream.”
Forgiveness floods my body as I realise it has stopped raining. The moonlight is wrapping everything in its silver cloak, giving hope to edges of life that have not experienced it in a long time. I smile as I push my sodden hair back from my face. It occurs to me, like a bolt from the blue, that tears are mingled with the rain that has drenched me.
I feel strong despite my tears or perhaps because them. I feel as if I could continue this dance between good and evil forever, destroying all that they have built, and seeking justice for those who can’t seek it for themselves.
“Hey, Alex. You finished yet? I’m wet through!”
I look up at him with a thin lipped smile. Pickett; my pawn, his best friend, the ace up my sleeve.
“Just about.” My smile grows wider; it wouldn’t do to let him know that I am using him for the information I could gather.
Is it the malicious part of me that hopes Goodwin can see me when I fuck Pickett? Is it the devil in me that hopes that he is hurting - where ever he is - as much as I did watching him with Ana?
Ethan was right, I am dangerous. A lot of good it did him though, he’s gone too.
Maybe it’s a curse that everyone I hate dies, maybe its just luck; I don’t care either way it serves my purpose.
I take one last look at Goodwin’s grave and thank him silently for the most important lesson he ever taught me; how to love and how love can destroy you. I survived its destruction once before because I value my survival. Would I be so lucky a second time?
I stand upright, my brown standard issue trousers cling to my legs, my bare feet are caked with mud and suddenly I feel cold.
I turn to Pickett and look him in the eye as I ask. “Do you know how to dance?”
*
Fin
*
Remember feedback is love!
Rating: NC-17 to be safe due to language, brief mention of sex with possible minor and dark plot.
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Alex/Goodwin and hints of Alex/Pickett and Ana/Goodwin
Word Count: 6,448
Warning: Dark themes, sex with possible minor and foul language.
Summary: Picks up where Part one finished up leading through to the end of Season two.
Authors Note: I'm not that happy with this section of the story and would love some feedback on it (my grammer is bad I know)! Also I own nothing!
| PART 1 |
Dance of the Dead Part two of two.
I had been surprised to see Goodwin had slept in my room the night after the training. However, after an awkward good morning he left and I saw little of him over the following few weeks as I recovered.
Once Tom gave me the all clear I was assigned to do a perimeter check with Pickett. I was strangely excited to be allowed out of the confines of the medical station.
I made my way to the camp of Yurts wearing a white shirt tied off at my midriff and a pair of faded blue jeans. I carried my boots wanting to practice walking and leaving no tracks.
As I approached the rock with the hole in it I was feeling fantastic, fresh air flooding my lungs, natural light caressing my skin.
“You know you would probably be more successful at sneaking around if you weren’t wearing a bright white shirt. It would also help if you stopped inhaling so loudly too.”
I jumped startled by Goodwin’s appearance, I hadn’t heard him approach but then I wasn’t supposed too.
“Who said I was trying to sneak around?”
“Why else would you be carrying them?” He indicated at the boots in my hand with an incline of his head.
“I just…” I trailed off deciding to change tack. “Have you been following me?”
A smile spread across his face. “Only for the last ten minutes or so. I kept thinking you would notice me any moment.”
I brushed my hair back from my face trying to mask my embarrassment.
“It’s been so long since I’ve been allowed out.” I offered in way of an excuse.
His hand was heavy and warm on my shoulder. “It’s ok. You ready to check the perimeter?”
“I thought Pickett…”
“We swapped. I’ve got some fishing to do and it seemed stupid for both of us to go out. I thought I might as well check the perimeter before hand.”
I nodded it did make sense and was something they did regularly. “So why you this far out? I was supposed to meet Pickett at the Yurts.”
“I fancied a walk. Christ, what is this? The Spanish inquisition?” A lazy smile blessed his face for a moment.
I looked away from him to the rock wall and thought, not for the first time, that the hole looked like a window from a long forgotten, giant’s house. Despite my averted gaze I felt Goodwin’s eyes warming my skin more effectively then the sun ever could, but I refused to meet them.
He finally broke the silence. “Shall we collect the nets then head out?”
“Sure.”
We walked towards the camp in silence for a few minutes.
”It’s nice to see you out and about again, Alex.” His voice sounded genuine as he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “You healed quickly.”
It was true within days nearly all evidence of my torture training had disappeared. All accept a small scar where my eyebrow had split. Even that was healed and the hair beginning to grow back. Two weeks later and all that remained was the tangle of raised white scars on my back from my lashings. In a few months they too would disappear.
“Thank you. Although I’m sure I wouldn’t be so well healed were it not for your healing hands.”
His nod was stiff as we arrived at the yurts. “Stay here; I will fetch the nets and some supplies. You’ve got nothing about an all nighter?”
I shook my head actually thrilled at the prospect of sleeping under the stars after weeks of living with the harsh lighting at the station.
I watched as he made his way to the supplies yurt. He moved with a kind of feline grace, his square, masculine shoulders hinting at the power of his body. His masculinity made me throb for the briefest second.
Suddenly I felt as if I hadn’t seen him in forever and I drank in his movements like a woman in a drought dying of thirst. I considered whether Goodwin had been busy these last few weeks or if he had just been avoiding me after what had happened. If the latter was the case, as I suspected it to be, why then had he swapped with Pickett? Could he really just have done what made more sense or had he - as I found myself secretly hoping - just missed me?
I wasn’t able to spend long pondering this conundrum as he soon returned carrying two bags. I took one from him and slung it over my shoulder without a word.
We headed out walking in a strained silence that was screaming to be broken and seeing as he was making no effort to do so it seemed like I would have to take the initiative.
“Been busy?” I asked eventually.
Goodwin stopped pulling his rucksack off of his back and riffling through it before finding his canteen of water and taking a gulp. I wondered if he was using it as an excuse to bide his time while he thought of an answer.
“We’d gotten short of supplies so a few of us went hunting and searching for fruit.” He offered me some water.
As I took it my long, thin fingers brushed his thick, strong ones for a mere moment; long enough for my body to jolt.
I took a sip of his water as I tried to quash my disappointment; he hadn’t thought of me during my absence let alone missed me. Hunting outings like the one he described rarely last longer than a week as it leaves the camp prone and vulnerable.
“I wondered where Pickett had been. He had promised to come and keep me company.” I eyed him looking for a reaction. “I missed him.”
Nothing. No reaction what so ever. All I got for my efforts at raising jealousy was a blank expression that betrayed none of his thoughts or emotions. Fuck.
“Henry has kept him busy. He’s been keeping an eye on the Swan station.” He took back his water canteen and screwed the lid back on before thrusting it back into his bag.
“Shame.” I said looking at him coyly, a look I had seen the entertainers use to beguile the men. “I missed him. It was lonely, to say nothing of boring, down in that medical station.”
Goodwin shouldered his bag again and began to walk with me falling into step behind him. A muscle in his jaw clenched and unclenched a few times.
“I’m sorry I deprived you of his company today.” He said finally, his voice oddly tight and measured.
“It’s ok. I’m glad you did.”
He looked at me confusion flickering across his face before he stooped down to look at something on the floor. It was a careless track left by one of ours so he didn’t look at it long before covering it up and moving on.
It seems that one of the most important tasks we are given while scouting out the area is to make sure we clear up any tracks that might betray us and our whereabouts.
I had once asked who we didn’t want to find us to which Pickett had replied mysteriously “The others.”
I never asked who these others were.
*
It was dark when we finally reached the beach. It would take us half a day’s walk to get back to the camp of yurts so we decided to spend the night on the beach under the soft glow of the full moon.
I set about making a fire while Goodwin caught us some fish. Some we would eat tonight and some we would dry back at camp.
It didn’t take me long to complete my task so I went about preparing the sand for a bed by removing stones and twigs and making sure it was flat before laying down some tough boar skin to protect us from sand mite.
Once I had done this I noticed Goodwin heading towards me bearing his impressive catch; this beach was rarely fished.
“Hungry?” He asked.
“Starving.” I replied noticing he had already prepared some to cook.
We sat in a companionable, if hungry, silence as we watched our dinner cook, the air heady with smoke, making my eyes dry. The fire spat ruby ash which climbed upwards, dancing towards the moon like tiny fairies before fading to nothing, not having reached its destination. Sat there I wondered why I had never noticed how beautiful fire was before; its smell, the soft crackle of burning twigs, seemed to me at that moment, the most exquisite experience on the whole island.
The fish didn’t take long to cook and was so delicious and fresh we wolfed it down hungrily, making me sigh happily.
“God, I’be missed this.” I said truthfully as I swallow the last morsel.
Goodwin looked at me for a while before replying quietly. “Me too.”
Quiet though the words may have been but they still made my stomach lurch and my heart flop almost painfully.
We continued to watch the fire in silence before Goodwin turned to me, an odd wistful expression gracing his face taking years from it.
“Do you know how to dance?”
I tilted my head to the side in interest. I had heard entertainers talk of dancing and I remember one saying to me as a child that someone like me, a child found abandoned in the jungle, would probably never experience what its like to dance. She had looked sad for me.
“No.” I reply unable to keep the trace of regret from tingeing my voice.
Goodwin stood abruptly so he towered above me, holding out his hand for me to take. I took it wondering if it was the smoke that made me feel so sensual or whether it was all just a sweet, rapturous dream.
With gentleness uncharacteristic to the men of our community Goodwin guided my arm around his waist before doing this same with his own. The muscles in his back felt hard and taught against my fingers as I spanned them out wondering if I could soak up some of his strength, knowledge and wisdom through them.
He slowly took my other hand, pressing it fingertip to fingertip with his own before consuming it completely in his own.
His arm around arm waist pulled my body so close to his that we touched, making me gasp slightly.
“We need to be closer.” It was almost a whisper, low and breathy in my ear.
Carefully he began to move his feet in a way that indicated I should mimic his movements, which I did clumsily at first but quickly catching on - as I did with everything else - until we were moving in an almost perfect synchrony.
The heat emanating from his body made my skin tingle in an unfamiliar way, the pressure of his arm holding me against him caused my heart pound so hard I’m sure he must have felt it. I became increasingly aware of the power of the body pressed against my own and the thought of its strength thrilled me.
Tentatively he dropped my hand and touched my neck before sliding his hand up to my cheek, eyes probing mine all the while.
I sighed happily as I lent my cheek into his hand in a movement I don’t remember deciding to make. My eyes shut with the effort of containing my joy and pleasure at his unexpected touch.
“You are so beautiful.” His voice was thick. “I’ve never met anyone who amazes me like you do. No-one has ever held so much power over me and been so blissfully unaware of it.”
My already pounding heart threatened to burst unceremoniously from the confines of my ribcage, as he inclined his head towards my own.
His lips captured my bottom one, catching me unawares as he kissed me softly before becoming hungrier and more urging, emboldened by the response I found myself giving. It was the most amazing experience to be kissed by a man like Goodwin; at first soft and yielding and then wild and passionate. I raised my arm instinctively so I could thread my fingers through his surprisingly silky hair. The embers of lust I had felt for him for all those long years, sizzled under my skin encouraging my hands to wander.
I whimpered surprised when his hand captured mine, stopping its meanderings over his chest before he pulled away from me.
“Goodwin…” I begin tentatively before trailing off.
“Alex, stop me now before I can’t stop.” His imploring eyes bore into mine and it struck me for the first time that they were beautiful.
I was held steady in his gaze and decided that this couldn’t end there, not then, not so soon. So I did what I wanted to do most in the world and boldly kissed him, letting him know with my actions that I had no desire or inclination to stop him.
“You owe me this, Goodwin. I’ve wanted this too long to stop it now and as much as you may deny it, you have too.”
“Alex, I didn’t mean for this to happen.” It was more a groan of defeat than that of protest and the lust betrayed in his eyes, to say nothing of his body’s reaction to the proximity of mine, confirmed my argument.
“Well it has happened.” I whispered as I kissed his jaw line. “You can’t stop it now. It’s too late.”
“Aren’t you scared?” He breathes came out in ragged puffs as he submitted to my kisses before he entwined his thick fingers in my loose hair.
“Of what? My destiny?”
“No. Of me?”
“You, this, has been my destiny. You have been ever since I was abandoned. Why should I be scared of you?” A feeling of empowerment seeped through me.
I wasn’t too lust filled or empowered to miss the curious look of guilt that flashed across his face, however.
“Show me.” His voice was hoarse, urgent. “Show me where he hurt you.”
I blinked at him confused but unwilling to break the spell. I pulled my shirt over my head and turned my bare back to him, bearing my scars, my vulnerabilities, to his mercy for him to do with them as he saw fit.
To my surprise he knelt behind me, hands on my hips, as he kissed the scars tenderly. I melted against him as a strange emotion swelled inside me.
Goodwin taught me two things that night; how to dance and what it feels like to be made love to, as he took my virginity under the stars.
*
Flashes of the past, as I stare unseeing at the slight curve of the earth separating us, leads me to wonder if I would do anything differently could I travel to the past. It’s something I mull over as I begin to lay pebbles over his grave as a permanent marker of his presence under the earth.
After a few minutes I come to the conclusion I wouldn’t change a thing. If I did would I still be me? Would I still know the things I do?
*
No one would have known anything was different between Goodwin and me. Not even Pickett picked up on the looks we exchanged, the stolen kisses as we hunted together. No one was suspicious when we found any excuse to spend time away from camp alone. The secrecy was part of the thrill, part of the danger.
Fucking Goodwin, I found, was far more effective than hunting at letting vent to my frustrations. He showed me what pleasure - pure, selfish pleasure - felt like and hell, I couldn’t get enough.
“Alex, you are perfect.” Goodwin said looking down at me as he brushed stray hairs away from my eyes and the corner of my mouth. “You don’t know do you?”
“Know what?” I asked with a slight giggle, writhing beneath his weight.
“That I…” He paused momentarily. “That I care about you.”
I stopped giggling and squirming and instead grazed his cheek with my fingers, heart pounding. His words touched a part of me I didn’t even know existed. In his own way he loved me and I loved him. I had done ever since I had first laid eyes on him laughing with Pickett, I had realised then that it had been my mission all along to seduce him and make him care. It was my motivation. My driving force. The only problem was, as I hadn’t known how to go about it and had no experience or knowledge to draw upon how as to how to go about it; I had fumbled and dithered around with plans that were never put into action. All the while not realising, or dreaming, that I was succeeding all by myself without having to rely on covert plans or skills of seduction I knew nothing about.
It felt so good to finally have what I wanted the most. But I was waiting, always waiting for it to collapse around me. Waiting for something to go wrong. I just couldn’t believe that someone would like me; a child whose own mother didn’t want her, a child abandoned and left for death.
“Alex?”
I suddenly realised I was staring at him wordlessly. I tried to form some words but couldn’t find what needed to be said so I kissed him savagely. It was the way I had always imagined he would kiss me, but he was never savage or forceful, instead being kind, tender and imaginative with his caresses. I’m not sure if that excited me or disappointed me.
This time when we made love he didn’t withdraw before he came; telling me without words just how much I had bewitched him. He had fallen for me, so much so that he didn’t mind if I got pregnant and everyone found out about us.
As we lay basking in the afterglow, limbs and fingers entwined, he turned to me - he was always the first to break silence.
“We have to tell them.”
I knew deep down this would be his way of marking me as his own and warning the other men off. It should have angered me but it made me flush with pride; no one had wanted me all to themselves before.
I smiled at him indulgently. “I care for you too.”
*
When the others found out about us there was no fanfare and no big announcement. Our togetherness was grasped by everyone and no one passed comment or judgement. No one that is, except Ethan.
“Rather you than me.” He declared to Goodwin. “She’s dangerous and unstable. She will be your undoing.”
Goodwin just laughed him off.
“Just because you couldn’t handle her.” He had chided.
I wondered what exactly I had done to give them such an opinion of me but said nothing.
For the most part people were polite, even the people at the top of the pecking order, although you could tell they weren’t entirely happy. Monogamy is just not condoned among our people; it effects and changes people, makes them vulnerable.
Monogamy is seen as a reward only to be achieved through great acts of heroism or outstanding service to the community above and beyond protocol. Monogamy is granted to the great heroes in the form of the union bond. This allows a man to pick any woman, who is not already in a union, to spend the rest of their life and cultivate a family with. Of course the woman can decline the offer but it would be unwise to do so, unless they are an inner member where the standard of life is good. Union bonds are seen by many Entertainers to be the only means of bettering themselves. That said however, only two union ceremonies have ever taken place throughout our islands history.
Those who had concerns however, needn’t have worried for Goodwin was not monogamous and I always knew that I would have to share him with his job and whatever entertainer should happen to take his eye. I didn’t mind. After all it was I that he kept coming back to; it was me he shared a part of his soul with. I had little opportunity to be anything but monogamous however, with the other men folk neither wanting to brave Goodwin’s wrath or approach a non-Entertainer to do Entertainer duties. Although I am sure had I actively looked there would have been someone willing to oblige.
*
I had never realised how easy it would be to become complacent and take his fixation with me for granted. None-the-less it felt good to no longer have to fight for something I didn’t have. For I had what I wanted; the security that Goodwin offered, my place in this community was secure. Little did I realise all I had worked for, everything I had achieved would be torn away from me so soon after I had gained it and in the space of five minutes.
It’s funny that of all the days I have lived, the day of loss would be the one I would remember with an almost oppressive clarity.
It was a clear day; the air was fresh and warmed by the sun that sat high in the azure sky. Goodwin and I were on our way back from the beach. The scent of the sea salty air clung to our otherwise spotless clothes. Of course now we can only wear scruffy, uncomfortable clothes of brown and ingrained with dirt, on the orders of ‘Henry’. Even now, slumped on the ground, I miss the feel of cotton shirts against my bare breasts, the feel of the linen against my freshly shaven legs.
I remember what we were talking about on that fine day; food.
“I could really murder some boar.” I had remarked just a split second before it happened.
Goodwin made a movement as if to reply when out of nowhere we were engulfed by blinding white light. A high pitched hum assaulted us, threatening to split our eardrums apart.
I covered my ears with my hands, eyes wide with surprise and fear - was this the end of the world?
I looked at Goodwin whose face was one of puzzlement; if he was frightened he covered it well. His lips were moving, forming what I could only assume to be words. It seemed to go on forever, drowning out the world around me becoming the only thing that seemed to matter. In reality however, it must have taken mere minutes, maybe even seconds, before it disappeared as quickly and as curiously as it started. It seemed to me like a war cry, a warning of a coming danger far more hazardous than anything I had or would come across.
Once this brain splitting anomaly had passed all that remained as evidence of it ever having had occurred was the ring that remained in my ears for days to come.
I stared blankly off into the distance trying to regain my bearings. I refocused when I felt Goodwin’s hands grip my upper arms.
“Alex, you ok?”
I nodded wordlessly, unable to articulate the questions racing through my throbbing head.
I felt his hands release my arms before finding my self wrapped in his embrace with his chin resting on my head. The strength in his body against mine helped to calm the nebulas questions I had previously been unable to pin down.
“What the hell was that?” I asked as I overcame the shock.
“I would say it was from the idiots at The Swan station if I had to bet.” He gently set me at liberty and captured my eyes with his own. “I say we head back and find out…”
He trailed off interrupted by yet another unfamiliar sound, this time it was low whooshing sound that wasn’t quite so harsh on our ears. My eyes followed his to the sky where an odd looking steel bird like object, the likes of which I had ever only seen once, began to descend on us from the sky, breaking off into huge chunks along the way.
I gripped Goodwin’s arms, feet rooted to the spot.
“Wha…what’s that?” I asked eyes fixed on it lest it fall on me in some surprise attack.
“A plane.” He looked at me with an urgency that made panic rise in my depths. “It looks as if a piece fell into the sea. I’m going to head over to check if there are any survivors. This is just the kind of thing they hoped would happen. Head back to the camp as quickly as you can and tell them what’s happened.”
He fixed me with a look as if to check I was taking it all in before continuing.
“Tell them if there are survivors I will carry out the plan. Get them to send someone to the other beach, a huge piece fell there.” His voice was low and urgent.
He kissed me quickly. “Tell them, I will meet them at midnight in the clearing with a list. Quick Alex, go.”
I did as I was told and ran the whole way back to camp. My chest hurt and a feeling of emptiness settled over me like a cloak.
*
The news sent a buzz through camp that I had never experienced before. All of our camps and bases were kitted out ready should we need to set up residence in them urgently. Ethan was dispatched with orders to carry out the plan before I had arrived back to base. Henry did seem quietly pleased with Goodwin’s initiative and immediate action, so much so, a small smile spread across his face.
I accompanied Henry and Tom as they went to meet Goodwin that first night and several times after. I didn’t listen to their hushed conversation, instead I watched the others sleep unaware of the plan. Wondering if they knew that their innocence and hope was to be snatched from them in a way they could never begin to imagine. I pitied them.
We took them, preying on their weaknesses and vulnerabilities. They seemed powerless to stop us. We never saw them as threat. Correction; we never saw them as a threat until they killed our own. They were taken a little bit more seriously after that.
I watched them during the day. It had started as curiosity and soon evolved into a sick compulsion.
I couldn’t help it. I watched him with her. Ana. I remember the way he looked at her, the way his voice softened when he said her name. I hated her. I had some compassion for the others but not for her. As time advanced I began to wonder why we had hesitated to kill her. Without her the rest would fall as easy as rocks fall to the earth. I contemplated killing her myself. I fantasised about it at night, imagining the feel of her blood coating my hands, imagining the bug eyed look of surprise. I imagined the way her neck would sound as I snapped it, so quickly she wouldn’t know what had hit her.
I became obsessed with watching Goodwin become closer to her, all the while shutting himself from me. I would visit him sometimes. At first he told me how he was doing this for us. After this he was sure he would be granted the opportunity to form a union with me. As time passed in blurs of Ana-Lucia all talk turned to the mission and what a great potential ally she could prove.
“Cindy’s the only who suspects. She wants to join us in return for her continued alibi. Only she wants it to look like she was taken. Henry seems quite taken her initiative and balls. She would make an excellent addition to the cause.”
I had cast my eyes down. Goodwin’s past concerns about our mission and ethics seemed to have melted away while mine grew ever more solid.
“Its ok, Alex. We can trust Cindy. She’s already told them she remembers me being on the plane and set up Nathan as a scapegoat.”
How could I tell him what was really on my mind, it would make me seem weak and make him come to despise me.
As the days crawled on it only seemed to get worse. When Goodwin met with any of us to discuss the others he would inform them indignantly that Ana should be on the list.
“She’s a good person.” He would protest, more insistent by the day.
Henry wasn’t convinced but pleased by Goodwin’s fast results - Ethan had yet to secure one member of his group - he was willing to concede to Goodwin’s wish; Ana wouldn’t die.
It became clear that she was violating my territory; I was no longer safe so I questioned him about her furiously.
“Why her? She’s not a good person.”
“She’s special.” He replied calmly in the face of my ferocity serving only to infuriate me further.
“Remember when I was special to you?” I hit his chest with my palm. “Huh? Remember that?”
He laughed fending off my blows easily. “But Alex, you are just a child. Ana is a woman; you lack her strength, her depth.”
I recoiled from him as if I had been dealt a physical blow. How could he say such a thing?
“It was fun, Alex. But it was never going to last.”
It wasn’t his chest I hit this time, but his face with my fist. I would have done it again too had he not caught my arm easily.
I would show him what strength and depth really were and he would rue this day. Who was he to underestimate me?
My eyes felt like chips of ice set in the blazing heat of my face as I turned on him coldly. “I would say I’m sorry for hitting you but you deserved it and I would do it again. One day you will regret this, that’s a promise.”
My voice was low, menacing and cool, it took me a moment to realise this alien voice was coming from me.
His smile in reply was at first ferocious and then slightly softer. When he kissed me it was the rough, violent kiss I always knew he was capable of giving and secretly desired. My treacherous mouth responded for a brief moment - no longer - before I pulled away thumping his chest once more with my balled fist before stalking into the forest.
The next time I saw him he was arguing with Tom about Ana again. Tom claimed Ana Lucia was too dangerous, too unpredictable to keep around. Goodwin countered gruffly that she would be an incredible asset to us; she would be the strong woman we had lacked for years. His words snaked into my chest like an icy spike.
As I watched him defend her corner that one last time, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever fought for me like that.
*
I never spoke to him again but I watched him almost everyday hoping against hope that he would just wake up and become disenchanted with her like he had with me. It never happened; I never really expected it to. Even when she killed him he was as much under her spell as if she was a witch relying on black magic.
I watched as they struggled. He wasn’t trying to kill her, just over power her enough to take her to Pickett and some others who were waiting. They weren’t close enough to see what was to unfold even; they weren’t close enough to offer him any real support. I was, however. But I watched as they struggled and refused to help him. Why should I? If she was the good person he proclaimed her to be why would he need my help?
It was kill or die, and Goodwin failed to kill so there was only one option left. He saw me as he died; slowly, painfully, impaled on a spike. His eyes pleaded with me but I just smiled at him sweetly. He knew I could have helped him but had chosen not to and I was glad. I value my survival; Goodwin apparently did not. He loses; I win.
Once Ana Lucia had departed I stood over his body trying to repress the sneer on my lips. To Ana it had been kill or die. She had chosen correctly. He hadn’t.
Betrayal was evident in his eyes even then, while so close to death. What right did he have to feel betrayed? He got what was coming to him. No one betrayed him but himself with his blind stupidity.
“Who’s the weak one now, Goodwin? Who let their emotions blind them?” With that I left, heading off to meet with the others an odd sense of satisfaction falling over me.
My satisfaction wasn’t complete with his death, however. There was a lot more I had to do, more revenge to enact. I smiled to myself at the irony. The very skills they had taught me would be turned against them.
*
He had failed us, been detected. As such burying him wasn’t really high on our list of priorities. Besides, his rotting corpse served as a reminder to us. A reminder of the dangers these strangers posed to us, the danger of complacency and of free thinking. We are to do exactly as Henry tells us. But is Henry really just relaying a message from higher authorities; the mysterious leaders Pickett and Goodwin spoke of?
I am determined to pick the mysteries of this community apart. A community that prides itself of consisting of ‘good’ people, yet acts barbarous and savage. The very people we are fighting against, these Others, are far more civilised than we are. Just watching them makes my mouth water. The prospect of belonging with them and knowing more of their world makes my skin tingle in anticipation. The only stain on the white cloth of their community is their association with Ana Lucia. But she will soon no longer be a problem. She will disappear either by my hand or the seeds that I have sown.
We’re a lot alike Ana Lucia and I. We might have been friends had circumstances been different. But as it is it is because of her I have had to resume fighting.
I will show them all.
They can’t fuck with me anymore. I will do what Goodwin was too weak to do; I will pull them down.
I made my first move the day I helped Claire to escape. I laugh at the memory. In order to help her and get her to safety I had to lie as Goodwin had taught me, plan as he had instructed and sneak as he had demonstrated. I couldn’t let another innocent child fall into their grasping, greedy hands, so I took from them what they wanted most and no one suspected.
He had taught me all I needed to know and I now have a plan in place. I have to work fast though; I will begin to show soon.
I cast my eyes down at his makeshift grave. I had finally found the inclination to bury him and say my goodbyes after weeks off putting it off. I’m glad I have done it though; the process has been somewhat cathartic. I have lain to rest a lot of emotional baggage that has been weighing down on me like shoes made of rocks.
I feel free.
Funny thing love. It can sour so quickly and soon you can’t remember what separates it from hate. But I know deep down I loved him. I now recognise the need to let my anger for how he hurt me, belittled me, go. Everything that I have been through needs to be lain to rest before it stops strengthening me and begins to draw from me; making me weak. Besides I don’t only have myself to think of now. I move my right hand to cover my stomach protectively. My left hand moves of its own accord to touch the earth covering him, it sticks to my fingers.
“Thank you for all you have done, for all you taught me and for your final gift. I know now that you loved me, in your own special way. If it takes my last breath I will carry out your dream.”
Forgiveness floods my body as I realise it has stopped raining. The moonlight is wrapping everything in its silver cloak, giving hope to edges of life that have not experienced it in a long time. I smile as I push my sodden hair back from my face. It occurs to me, like a bolt from the blue, that tears are mingled with the rain that has drenched me.
I feel strong despite my tears or perhaps because them. I feel as if I could continue this dance between good and evil forever, destroying all that they have built, and seeking justice for those who can’t seek it for themselves.
“Hey, Alex. You finished yet? I’m wet through!”
I look up at him with a thin lipped smile. Pickett; my pawn, his best friend, the ace up my sleeve.
“Just about.” My smile grows wider; it wouldn’t do to let him know that I am using him for the information I could gather.
Is it the malicious part of me that hopes Goodwin can see me when I fuck Pickett? Is it the devil in me that hopes that he is hurting - where ever he is - as much as I did watching him with Ana?
Ethan was right, I am dangerous. A lot of good it did him though, he’s gone too.
Maybe it’s a curse that everyone I hate dies, maybe its just luck; I don’t care either way it serves my purpose.
I take one last look at Goodwin’s grave and thank him silently for the most important lesson he ever taught me; how to love and how love can destroy you. I survived its destruction once before because I value my survival. Would I be so lucky a second time?
I stand upright, my brown standard issue trousers cling to my legs, my bare feet are caked with mud and suddenly I feel cold.
I turn to Pickett and look him in the eye as I ask. “Do you know how to dance?”
*
Fin
*
Remember feedback is love!