Wrong as rain
Wrong as rain
Rating: PG-13
Characters: All main 815 survivors alive by the end of Season 3, plus Desmond, Juliet and a mention of Ben.
Timeline: Through the Looking Glass; future fic.
Warning: Character death and overall angst.
Word count: 631
Disclaimer: This is a fictional, nonprofit work for entertainment purpose only. The copyright in the TV show LOST and its components is owned by "American Broadcast Companies, Inc.", which reserves all rights therein.
"What you find on the Island, you leave on the Island." These are Benjamin's last words; Locke isn't there to listen and nobody else will, not even if they wanted to, under the sound of the helicopters and the tropical storm that shakes the trees.
(The sky is crying.)
Everybody is taken to Sydney afterwards. She's the only one who stays there.
"Your mother is dead", Aunt Lindsey says as if it was her fault, and it is, and it is. She stays at the doorway, her clothes drenched, Aaron wailing in her arms.
(If only she knew her father's name.)
The cancer comes back. Some of them are there, dark ghosts under umbrellas as her casket is lowered into the wet earth.
(Why didn't you leave us there, he wants to scream; the ghosts demand respect.)
When they arrive at the airport, everything is there again. The difference is that now, they argue in English sometimes.
The baby is born on a rainy day. They call her Chin-Mae. Truth.
(As if.)
His mother feeds him everything he didn't have on the island, cookies and chocolate and pasta (she'll never know about the hatch). His lawyer fills him in, cattle and real estate and corporations (he'll never know about his friends).
His temples feel moist as he stuffs his face in glucose. It reminds him of something, but nobody would understand if he tried to tell them.
(There's nothing to do. Nothing to do at all.)
He loves Penny and he can't stand being away from her but it hurts whenever she tries to talk to him across the thunders resonating on the windows and the blinking lights and the honking and the whooshing and the crowds and the people and the people and the people.
(Silence - is it inside the barrel of a gun or at the last page of Our Mutual Friend?)
The country of equal rights - and yet people won't look him in the eye. Even the droplets of water on the shoulder of his shirt stand out more than on the shoulders of those around him. The friendly ones warn him to stay away from trouble; the unfriendly ones assume he is the trouble. He remembers his past; maybe these are the right ones, after all.
(It was good, having people look up to him. It was good.)
There is no trial, there is no police, there is no jail. There is an agreement. It's all the same in the end - only she eats better food, has better clothes and can walk around the city once in a while.
When he asks her about her blotted make-up, she says it's the rain.
(Rain never kept her inside, anyway.)
She likes to go out in rainy days.
Rachel asks for her opinion on things, but in her opinion she'd rather have no opinion on anything anymore. Let Rachel choose her new job and her new husband. Rachel the oldest, Rachel the mother. Rachel can make decisions.
She can't make decisions. Never could and never will.
(She likes to go out in rainy days because then she doesn't have to pretend she's happy.)
He went to Sydney with an objective in mind. It wasn't there.
He strangled his objective with a rusty chain. It didn't feel as good as he thought it would.
He hasn't found a new objective to substitute that one yet.
(He's looking for it. Rain or shine, he's looking for it.)
Industrial food lost its appeal. Nothing smells right and everything is too sterile. Books are too much, movies aren't enough. Women are uninteresting. Men are even more uninteresting. All is tidy. All is civilized. All is fixed. All is tedious.
He misses chaos. He misses life.
(In his mind, it hasn't stopped raining since.)
Rating: PG-13
Characters: All main 815 survivors alive by the end of Season 3, plus Desmond, Juliet and a mention of Ben.
Timeline: Through the Looking Glass; future fic.
Warning: Character death and overall angst.
Word count: 631
Disclaimer: This is a fictional, nonprofit work for entertainment purpose only. The copyright in the TV show LOST and its components is owned by "American Broadcast Companies, Inc.", which reserves all rights therein.
"What you find on the Island, you leave on the Island." These are Benjamin's last words; Locke isn't there to listen and nobody else will, not even if they wanted to, under the sound of the helicopters and the tropical storm that shakes the trees.
(The sky is crying.)
Everybody is taken to Sydney afterwards. She's the only one who stays there.
"Your mother is dead", Aunt Lindsey says as if it was her fault, and it is, and it is. She stays at the doorway, her clothes drenched, Aaron wailing in her arms.
(If only she knew her father's name.)
The cancer comes back. Some of them are there, dark ghosts under umbrellas as her casket is lowered into the wet earth.
(Why didn't you leave us there, he wants to scream; the ghosts demand respect.)
When they arrive at the airport, everything is there again. The difference is that now, they argue in English sometimes.
The baby is born on a rainy day. They call her Chin-Mae. Truth.
(As if.)
His mother feeds him everything he didn't have on the island, cookies and chocolate and pasta (she'll never know about the hatch). His lawyer fills him in, cattle and real estate and corporations (he'll never know about his friends).
His temples feel moist as he stuffs his face in glucose. It reminds him of something, but nobody would understand if he tried to tell them.
(There's nothing to do. Nothing to do at all.)
He loves Penny and he can't stand being away from her but it hurts whenever she tries to talk to him across the thunders resonating on the windows and the blinking lights and the honking and the whooshing and the crowds and the people and the people and the people.
(Silence - is it inside the barrel of a gun or at the last page of Our Mutual Friend?)
The country of equal rights - and yet people won't look him in the eye. Even the droplets of water on the shoulder of his shirt stand out more than on the shoulders of those around him. The friendly ones warn him to stay away from trouble; the unfriendly ones assume he is the trouble. He remembers his past; maybe these are the right ones, after all.
(It was good, having people look up to him. It was good.)
There is no trial, there is no police, there is no jail. There is an agreement. It's all the same in the end - only she eats better food, has better clothes and can walk around the city once in a while.
When he asks her about her blotted make-up, she says it's the rain.
(Rain never kept her inside, anyway.)
She likes to go out in rainy days.
Rachel asks for her opinion on things, but in her opinion she'd rather have no opinion on anything anymore. Let Rachel choose her new job and her new husband. Rachel the oldest, Rachel the mother. Rachel can make decisions.
She can't make decisions. Never could and never will.
(She likes to go out in rainy days because then she doesn't have to pretend she's happy.)
He went to Sydney with an objective in mind. It wasn't there.
He strangled his objective with a rusty chain. It didn't feel as good as he thought it would.
He hasn't found a new objective to substitute that one yet.
(He's looking for it. Rain or shine, he's looking for it.)
Industrial food lost its appeal. Nothing smells right and everything is too sterile. Books are too much, movies aren't enough. Women are uninteresting. Men are even more uninteresting. All is tidy. All is civilized. All is fixed. All is tedious.
He misses chaos. He misses life.
(In his mind, it hasn't stopped raining since.)