fic: i've missed you so much (part 6/8)
A/N: I apologize for the delay in updating. I just started my internship for the summer and things have been a little crazy! I finally decided to make this eight parts, so only two chapters after this one and they will be slightly different. Hope you enjoy this bit!
Edit: for some reason, the last part of my fic got cut off and I can't fix it. It's there, but you have to highlight after the text ends to see the rest. Have no idea what is up. If you have an idea on how to fix it let me know!
----
Thanksgiving used to be something lonely, just another day to remind you of all that you didn’t have as you ate cold, thinly sliced turkey on wheat in a stolen car on some freeway. The radio would blare Patsy Cline and you’d think that maybe she was the best friend you ever had; she listened and never judged. Just sang your sorrows like she was the voice inside your head. Now here you were, less than a decade later, surrounded by the closest people that were left in your life, a warm and juicy turkey on display in the middle of your table, and you still felt the absence of that friend.
Sawyer was carving the turkey as you set at the head of the table. Around him were Claire and Aaron, Miles and his new girlfriend (everyone had really been surprised when he introduced her just a few weeks ago; he always had seemed like a loner). Even Frank had come from wherever he had gone to after he had ditched Grand Cayman. But one chair sat empty - Richard’s. He had yet to come back from his little adventure and you missed him, missed his presence, missed his friendship. And the strangest thing about it was, missing him only made you miss Jack more. You were just so tired of being lonely.
“Turkey’s done,” Sawyer smiled softly. You had all sat down and grabbed the hand of the person next to you to say grace when you heard a knock at the door.
You paused for a moment and then swiftly stood up to check the door. “Let me just see who it is,” you called as you walked into the hallway.
You were shocked to find him on the other side. His hair was fully peppered with gray now and there were a few more wrinkles along his eyes, but it was still him. “Richard,” you breathed, wrapping him a hug. He held you tight and it was almost like you could feel the desperation in his grasp. You knew it so well because you felt just the same way; you didn’t want to lose him too.
“Come in. Have dinner with us,” you said, wiping a stray tear from your eye. It seemed like he was about to do the same, his eyes were red-rimmed, and he laughed lightly as he replied, “of course.”
Everyone seemed just a bit more cheerful after that. You even pulled out another bottle of champagne and for once, sitting there all together, you felt like a real family. There were so many missing - Jack, Juliet, Charlie - but you didn’t feel sad remembering them, only grateful that you were able to live your life because of the sacrifices they had made. That seemed to be the consensus as people said what they were thankful that year, and as people filed out when the night was over, hugs and kisses were exchanged rather than tears.
Richard was on your couch when you walked into the living room. He was now nursing a glass of scotch (he seemed so old-fashioned, like a father then, and you supposed in some ways he was), and he turned and smiled when he heard your high heels click on the hardwood floor.
“Hey stranger,” you joked, sitting beside him. He looked down to his hands and after a few moments of silence asked if you had gotten his postcards.
“Yeah, all of them. You looked like you were having a great time,” you said. He wasn’t looking at you, so you knew something was wrong, you just didn’t know what. You waited for him to speak; that was just your way. You always seemed to know when there was something that needed to be said and he was the same in regards to you. It was a dynamic that you had slipped into like a glove, and so comfortable and inviting that you felt as if you had been friends all your life rather than one short year.
“You know I thought getting time away would help me, but sitting here now…” he paused, trying to find the right words. “I was wrong,” he said gazing at you. “I was afraid of what it meant to be living again, maybe I was afraid of dying, but I know now that I don’t want to be alone.”
“Well you’ve got me,” you said simply.
“I know.”
----
Thirty years passed.
Being a nurse was all you had hoped it would be. You loved being busy, pretty much always on call. You loved taking care of people. But if you were going to admit it to yourself, you saw Jack around every corner, whether it was a man in scrubs prepping for surgery or a doctor in a lab coat sitting with a patient. You liked to think that maybe you were helping to do some of the work he would have done if he had still been here. But then again, he had saved all of these people’s lives, even if they weren’t aware of it.
Aaron graduated from high school in 2022. He had always been a quiet kid, but he bloomed in high school and even picked up football. Soon the house was full of rowdy teenage boys fighting over pizza, and you and Claire couldn’t help but smile at all the life underneath your roof. Aaron ended up going to medical school. You cried when he told you that he wanted to be like Uncle Jack, and when he wrapped you in his big strong arms, you couldn’t believe how fast he had grown up.
Miles and his girlfriend Emily ended up getting married. She had the same sort of biting sarcasm as him, which resulted in an easy going banter. Plus, she was even better than you at putting up with Sawyer’s orneriness. After you came home from their small wedding, you pulled out your engagement ring again. You hadn’t cried at their wedding, though you felt the absence of Jack by your side acutely. But as you slid the ring on your finger one more time, you sobbed openly in the privacy of the room that you had once shared. All you could think was that there should have been a wedding, that he shouldn’t have stayed on that goddamn island, and that life was just so unfair.
But when Richard got sick at the age of 73, thirty years after your return from the island, you caught a glimpse of the fairness of death.
----
He had cancer. Terminal cancer. And he refused all treatment. It seemed that he was no longer afraid of death, and after over two centuries of life, he was ready for the next “adventure” as he called it. The week before his death, he had been delirious on and off, calling for his wife, mumbling in Spanish. When lucid, he didn’t have much to say, but with thirty years of friendship under your belt, you knew that just being there, holding his hand was enough. On the night of his death, he screamed out for her one last time.
“Isabella!” His voice was hoarse, weak, but there was joy there, not fear. “Te extrañé tanto,” he gasped as tears began to slowly fall down his weathered cheeks. All of the sudden, he was lucid once more. 'Kate, she's there! Isabella is there!"
"Where is she Richard?" You ask gently and yet you feel an eagerness to know the answer even if you're sure that he's just talking crazy because of the drugs and the cancer that has eaten away at him slowly. "Heaven," he breathes, a smile radiant upon his face. He closes his eyes, he seems at peace. And then he's gone.
You're left with the uncertainty of what comes next. In life, and now in death.
And yet, his words stir hope in your chest once again.