Lost Fic: Every Wonderful One (Desmond)
Title: Every Wonderful One
Characters: Desmond (Desmond/Penny, Desmond/Ruth), Jacob, Sawyer
Rating: PG-13
Words: 5,199
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Warnings: Implied character death. Angst.
Summary: Before Penny, Dickens was Desmond’s constant.
A/N: A late offering for lostpuffin and jenthegypsy who requested one Mr. Desmond Hume. I hope you ladies enjoy it!
“The Men who learn endurance, are they who call the whole world, brother.”
---Charles Dickens
Part I: In Which Our Hero Finds Dickens, Honor, and a Higher Calling
1. Desmond Reads His First Dickens
Desmond was fifteen the first time he picked up a Dickens novel. His English teacher was busy handing out copies of A Tale of Two Cities one morning when he tried to slip into the classroom unnoticed. Unfortunately, Mrs. Hadley seemed to have eyes in the back of her head.
“Late as usual, Mr. Hume?”
Desmond groaned inwardly.
“Sorry Ma’am, it won’t happen again.”
Mrs. Hadley arched an eyebrow in disbelief as she pressed a rather worn copy of the novel into Desmond’s hands. He smiled sheepishly at her.
“Of course it won’t Mr. Hume. Now take your seat.”
Desmond didn’t bother to glance down at the raggedy paperback in his hand as he made his way to his normal seat at the back of the room. He grumbled along with the rest of his classmates when Mrs. Hadley announced that they would be reading at least two chapters a night for homework until the book was completed.
That night he waited until the last possible minute to crack the spine. His copy had passed through so many hands that the pages seemed to be on the verge of falling out of the book all together. He imagined Mrs. Hadley had given him the very worst copy as punishment for always being at least five minutes late to her beloved English class. Could anyone really blame him for not wanting to spend all of his time reading a bunch of books written by dead blokes though? If only they weren’t all so bloody boring.
He sighed and stretched across his bed. He opened the book to the first page and read, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…”
“I’ve heard that one before,” he muttered to himself.
But then he continued to read. And then he continued some more. In fact he continued reading until the sun came peaking in through his curtains the next morning and he heard the unmistakable sound of his three little brothers stomping their way down to the kitchen for breakfast.
He blinked, bleary-eyed and exhausted suddenly and completely surprised at the time. He had heard of people staying up all night reading, but he had always assumed that it was an exaggeration. He had three chapters left and twenty-five minutes to get to school. He made a decision then that he was probably not going to miss anything earth shattering if he skived off his math class and after a wide yawn, he turned his attention back to the plights of Darnay and Carton.
He arrived early to his English class that day with his clothes rumpled and his mop of brown hair not quite brushed. He settled himself in the front row much to Mrs. Hadley’s surprise, and sat there with a goofy, if tired, grin on his face. As he had read the last words of the book just ten minutes before (“It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known”---words that he could not stop turning over in his head) he realized he had experienced nothing short of a revelation.
When Mrs. Hadley smiled and asked the class what they thought of the first two chapters, Desmond’s hand was the first in the air.
“It was brilliant Ma’am. When Carton went to the guillotine…it was amazing. He sacrificed himself, it was like he was a true man of honor, don’t you think?” A few of his classmates snickered, but Desmond ignored them and waited patiently for his teacher to respond.
“How much of the book did you read, Mr. Hume?” Mrs. Hadley asked in confusion.
“All of it. Every last word, Ma’am,” Desmond replied in a hushed reverence he usually reserved for church.
2. Desmond meets a girl (but not the girl)
Desmond sat at the back of the pub, his nose buried in his book. He was waiting for his mates to show up, but he didn’t mind that they were running late. He was perfectly capable of occupying himself. He was so wrapped up in Oliver’s quest for more gruel that he didn’t notice the attractive young woman hovering at the edge of his table.
“Excuse me…”
Desmond looked up and smiled at the girl in front of him. Her dark hair fell down just past her shoulders and her voice had a lovely, lilting quality about it. Beyond that she was cute, adorable even.
“Yes?”
“Are you reading Oliver Twist…in a pub?”
Desmond grinned and shrugged nonchalantly.
“Yes I am, Love.”
“I thought that book was for kids.”
Desmond’s eyes widened in mock horror.
“For kids? This book is a masterpiece. It’s about the horrors of poverty and about a kid fighting to live… well not just to live, but to live well. It’s not for kids, sister. It’s for everyone.”
The girl stared at him blankly before she dissolved into giggles.
“My name’s Ruth,” she said after she regained her composure.
Desmond carefully turned down the corner of his page. He was sure Oliver would understand.
“Desmond,” he replied. “Care to join me?”
3. Desmond becomes a man of honor
Desmond had been told by many that David Copperfield was the best of all the Dickens novels. He was eager to see if everyone was right, but he was going to have to wait until his lunch break to find out if the world at large was prone to hyperbole.
It was his first day at his new job painting houses with the Glenn brothers. He was tired and covered in a variety of colors and sweat was pooling at the base of his neck. He was miserable and the thought that just a month ago he had spent his days at university sitting in air-conditioned rooms discussing the philosophies of Sarte and Camus only worsened his mood.
Still this is what it meant to be a man. You had to make sacrifices; you had to take care of your family. His brothers were counting on him to put food on the table now that their dad was gone.
Desmond sighed and checked his watch for the fifth time in ten minutes. At least he knew Copperfield was waiting. He let this thought buoy him as he carried a fresh can of red paint up the ladder.
4. Desmond finds a kindred in Nickleby
“I want you up those stairs and in bed right now, Joseph!”
“Get over yourself Des, I’m seventeen I can do whatever the hell I want!”
Desmond grabbed his little brother by the nape of his neck and pushed him towards the stairs.
“Bed, now!”
Joseph stumbled, but didn’t argue further. Desmond watched as his brother stomped up to his room. He had just picked the boy up from the police station for the second time in a month. This was after a long day of building sets at work, cooking dinner for his other two brothers, and arguing with Ruth who was as she put it, feeling neglected.
Now it was 11:30 and finally, mercifully quiet. This was the first time Desmond had been alone all day long. He settled himself in his favorite chair and popped open a can of Guinness. His copy of Nicholas Nickleby was sitting on the end table next to him; it looked as if one of the boys had spilled something sticky all over the cover. Desmond rubbed the book across his already dirty jeans to remove some of the stickiness before turning to the page where he had left off.
He smiled for what felt like the first time all day as he returned to Nickleby’s world.
“I know how you feel, mate. Bloody family life, yeah?” He chuckled to himself.
5. Wherein Desmond First Encounters Fate (Our Mutual Friend, Attempt #1)
Desmond and Ruth strolled through the cramped used bookstore. It was a favorite haunt of theirs, Desmond couldn’t count the number of Saturdays they had spent browsing the overflowing stacks of books.
Today he was on a mission to find the last three Dickens novels he had left to read. He had already found Hard Times: For These Times and Barnaby Rudge, now that just left Our Mutual Friend. He had spent the past hour scouring every corner of the store even getting on his knees to dig through the dusty boxes the owner had never bothered sorting out. He knew Ruth was losing patience with him, he could feel her watching him as he ran his fingers along spines of the books lining the “D” section for the third time.
She just didn’t understand his Dickens obsession, never had really. Now he was at the end of the line, these were the final three. After that he would never read another new word of Dickens again. For the first time since he was fifteen he would have to seek refuge in some other author’s world or retread his own steps in the worlds of Copperfield, Cartan, and Twist. It was important to him to leave this store with all of the remaining books in his hands.
“Come on, Des. Let’s save Our Mutual Friend for another day, alright Love?”
“Just ten more minutes and we’ll go, I promise,” he pleaded.
Ruth sighed. “I’ll be over in the G’s if you need me.”
Desmond nodded absently and returned to his search.
“It’s not here,” he mumbled sadly.
“What are you looking for?”
Desmond looked up in surprise. He hadn’t realized he had spoken out loud. A smiling Blond American man was watching him curiously.
“I’m sorry; I guess I was talking to myself. I’m looking for Our Mutual Friend, I’m a bit of a Dickens fan,” Desmond said holding up his other two books as proof.
The man’s smile widened and he stretched his hand out to show Desmond the title of the book he was holding. Desmond’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the cover.
“Where did you find it?”
“Over in the children’s section. I think it was between a copy of Where the Wild Things Are and Peter Pan. Funny where things end up, huh? Why don’t you take it?”
“Oh no mate, I couldn’t.”
“I think you want it more. Here, you take it.” The man pushed the book into Desmond’s hands.
“Thank you,” Desmond said. “You know this is going to be my very last Dickens.” Desmond was turning the book over in his hand to examine the back cover. The man reached out and patted him gently on the back.
“Why don’t you save it for awhile?”
Desmond shook his head. “I don’t think I could resist the temptation.”
“You’d be surprised to know what you’re capable of.”
Desmond cocked his head. The man was a bit odd, but he had just given him his final Dickens, so Desmond figured he deserved a pass.
“Maybe I will save it, for a little while.”
The man nodded his approval and headed out of the store without saying another word. Desmond returned his gaze to the book in his hand. Maybe he would wait awhile before he read it; it would give him something to look forward to he thought.
6. Desmond learns to talk without speaking
Desmond wasn’t proud of what he had done to Ruth and his family. Leaving was no doubt a cowardly thing to do, but when a man is called, doesn’t he have a duty to answer?
Still, the process was not as easy as he had thought it would be. He had never realized how much he liked to talk. He had taken the sound of his own voice for granted all these years. Now he spent every day in silence. It was driving him a little crazy. He thought for sure he was going to break.
That’s why he devised a way to distract himself. He had begun having conversations in his head with various Dickens characters. While he silently carried barrels of wine down to the cellar, he was carrying on a rousing conversation with the fellas from the Pickwick club.
At night when he was laying alone on his uncomfortable little bed, he imagined Esther Summerson was beside him whispering comforting words in his ear. In the mornings while he was eating his breakfast he pretended he was sandwiched between Oliver and The Artful Dodger. This technique carried him straight through to the very end of his trial, until the day Brother Campbell first called him “brother.”
***
A Brief Interlude for a Very Important Conversation
“What’s your favorite movie?”
Desmond considered the question for a moment as he took in the sight of the gorgeous blonde sitting across from him. He had only known Penelope Widmore for around five hours now, but he was already hoping to know her for much longer.
“It’s a Wonderful Life,” he finally replied.
She snorted. “I knew you were a sentimentalist.”
“What about you then?”
“Casablanca.”
“Typical,” Desmond teased.
Penny gave him a sly smile.
“I assure you there’s nothing typical about me, Brother.”
“I’m not a Brother anymore.”
“And thank God for that.”
Desmond laughed.
“Alright, the important one: favorite book?”
“Bleak House,” Penny said without missing a beat.
Desmond felt his stomach flutter.
“You like Dickens?” he asked in awe.
Penny rolled her eyes.
“Of course. He’s Dickens. Why, don’t you like him?”
“I bloody love him.”
Penny giggled and leaned back in her chair.
“Let me guess, your favorite is David Copperfield.”
Desmond shook his head.
“I’m more of a Nicholas Nickleby man myself.”
“Huh.” Penny nodded her approval.
“Nothing typical about me either, Love.”
Penny brought her glass to her lips and took a small sip before winking at him.
“So it seems.”
***
Part II: In Which Our Hero Loses the Girl, Finds Her Again, and Becomes Better Acquainted With Fate
1. Desmond has a Merry Christmas indeed
“We should really go to sleep, Des. Your family is coming round in the morning and I promised my father we would stop by his place for dinner.”
Desmond groaned and buried his face in Penny’s hair.
“Do we have to?”
“I promised,” Penny said apologetically.
Desmond began kissing his way down her neck.
“What if I don’t let you go to sleep?”
“Then I’ll be very grumpy tomorrow and you’ll just have to handle my father on your own.”
Desmond had made his way down her chest and was now tracing her belly button with his tongue.
“Des…” Penny protested.
Desmond flashed Penny an evil grin and caught sight of the clock in the process. He laughed and pulled himself up to kiss her properly.
“What was that for?” she asked.
“It’s Christmas,” he replied. “I’ll race you to the tree.”
“No, we have to wait until morning! Desmond!”
Desmond was already off the bed and running to the living room. He knew exactly which present he wanted to open. He was already holding it by the time Penny caught up to him.
“You’re eight years old, you know that right?”
Desmond winked and handed her a small package of her own.
He watched as she pulled the paper off carefully to find a small black box inside. Her face broke into a smile when she saw the small golden locket.
“Des, it’s gorgeous.”
“You really like it?” he asked nervously.
“I love it,” she assured him with a quick kiss. “Now open yours.”
Desmond ripped the paper off of his gift and found himself frozen as he looked down at the book in his hands. It was Nicholas Nickleby. He opened the cover gingerly and his breath caught in his throat.
“A first edition? Pen…this is…it’s too much,” he stuttered.
“No, it’s not Love. I just wanted you to know that I was paying attention.”
Desmond shut the book carefully and shook his head.
“All I got you was a locket.”
“I love my locket and I love you.” Penny cupped his face in her hand and smiled. “Do you like your present?”
Desmond nodded and ran a finger down the aged spine.
“It’s the most amazing thing anyone has ever given me,” he said truthfully.
2. Desmond loses his honor and must make a difficult decision (Our Mutual Friend, Attempt #2)
Desmond stood in front of the guard turning the book over uncertainly in his hands.
“You can take it in with you. Books are permitted, trust me you’ll have nothing but time.”
“I know Brother, but I’ve been saving this book for a very long time now. It’s supposed to be the last thing I ever read.”
The guard arched an eyebrow.
“Well, if it helps you decide any, there’s always a chance someone will kill you on the inside.”
Desmond sighed and placed the book firmly on the counter. It wasn’t the right time to read it yet, he could feel it in his bones.
The guard shrugged and tossed the book into the box with the rest of Desmond’s belongings.
“Suit yourself.”
Desmond forced himself not to glance back as he was led to his cell.
3. Wherein Desmond comes to a shocking revelation
Three days Desmond had been in this hatch with the strange Kelvin Inman and he had not yet examined the bookshelves. Despite the older man’s insistence that there was no way off of the island, Desmond could not bring himself to give up hope. He did not want to imagine a life that consisted of nothing but conversations with this grizzled man and pushing that damn button every 108 minutes.
He wanted nothing more now than to go home. If he could go back he would apologize to Penny. He would take her in his arms and kiss her and promise to never leave her again. Of all the foolish things he had done in his life, he knew now that letting Penny slip away was the most foolish of them all.
He was not yet ready to reconcile himself to the idea that it was a mistake he would never get a chance to fix. That is why he was so desperately resisting settling into any sort of pattern in this odd wonderland he had found himself in.
It was raining outside again. At least that’s what Kelvin had told him earlier when he came in from “checking the environment”, Desmond had not set foot outside these walls in three days. He was feeling stir crazy as he sat listening to the droning clicks of the numbers as the time ticked away.
“Why don’t you read something?” Kelvin asked sharply as Desmond began to stalk around the room.
“What do you have?”
“Look for yourself. I’m going to take a shower, and don’t forget…”
“About the button,” Desmond finished.
“Fast learner,” said Kelvin with a satisfied nod.
Desmond crossed over to the bookshelf and began examining the titles. There were books by Dostoevsky and O’Brien. Joyce and Austen. There were even more modern authors like King and Crichton, but no matter how hard he looked Desmond couldn’t find a single Dickens. For the first time since he had washed up on this godforsaken island, Desmond felt tears sting his eyes.
4. Desmond’s second encounter with fate (Our Mutual Friend, Attempt #3)
After three years in the hatch, Desmond had finally reached his lowest point. Any hope he had of ever leaving this place, of ever laying eyes on another human being had left him. He was completely and utterly alone now.
He took a gun from the armory and slid one bullet in the chamber. Then he sat at the table with the gun, a bottle of rum, and his beloved book. He sat there drinking for awhile trying to work up the courage to open the cover. At long last he picked up the book and turned to the first page. A letter fell into his lap.
There hidden between the pages was a letter from Penny, words written to comfort him if he ever came to a moment such as this. He read the letter but it did not give him comfort. It only reminded him of the sorry state of what was left of his life. It only reminded him that it could have all been avoided if only he had never given her up.
Three years worth of rage and desperation exploded in him and he wanted nothing more than to tear the damn hatch apart with his bare hands. This place was his prison and he felt certain that he would never leave.
In the midst of his rampage he heard a wail that was not his own. His book and the gun were forgotten as he followed the sound to the front opening of the hatch. There was someone above.
Someone else.
He was not alone. Desmond felt a surge of hope for the first time in a very long while. He smiled through his tears as he flipped a switch and shined a light on the man above.
5. Desmond’s Dickens drought ends
It felt strange to look down the beach and see so many faces looking back at him. After two weeks with these people the chatter and the laughter were still overwhelming. He wasn’t alone anymore, but he supposed it would have been too much to ask for a burdenless stay on this island. He had traded the button in for the new duty of saving Charlie’s life after every flash.
He was tired and despite himself he found that he missed his little bunk bed from the hatch. Dusk was falling and Desmond yawned, he started walking in the direction of his new tent in hopes of getting to sleep early for once. He spotted Sawyer leaning against a tree with a book propped open on his lap. Sawyer looked up as Desmond passed.
“Evening Braveheart, where are you off to?”
“Thought I’d turn in early, Brother.”
Desmond stopped when he saw the familiar lettering on the cover of Sawyer’s book. He crouched down in front of the man to get a closer look.
“Can I help you?” Sawyer asked sarcastically as he pulled the book away.
“Is that A Tale of Two Cities?” Desmond replied trying to hide the hopefulness in his voice.
“Yep, just started it this afternoon. It’s depressing as hell.”
“That’s the first Dickens I ever read. Where did you find it?’
Sawyer shrugged and stared at Desmond over the top of his glasses.
“It’s been in my stash forever, I figured some kid was going to do some homework on the plane before the damn thing fell out of the sky. Why are you so interested?”
Desmond swallowed hard. “Brother, I haven’t read a word of Dickens in three years.”
“So? The hatch had a whole library of books. Why didn’t you read something else?”
“I did read other things, but there’s nothing like Dickens. Nothing else even comes close.” Desmond couldn’t take his eyes off the book. “Could I read it, Brother?”
Sawyer smirked. “I ain’t finished yet, now am I?”
“Please, I’ll trade you something. Anything you want.”
“You don’t have anything I want.”
“I’ll teach you to hunt boar.”
Sawyer laughed. “How bout you just catch me a boar and cook it for me and we’ll call it even?”
“Sure, anything,” Desmond was already reaching out for the book. When Sawyer placed it in his hands he couldn’t stop himself from grinning.
“You’re not going to cry are you?” Sawyer asked.
Desmond just shook his head and stood up.
“Thank you, Brother.”
“Yeah, yeah this ain’t charity, that boar better come coated in Dharma Barbeque sauce.”
Desmond was already walking away, the book clutched tightly in his hands. It didn’t look like he would be turning in early tonight, but he found that he didn’t mind at all.
6. Desmond stays cool on a very hot night
The air on the boat was thick with humidity. Desmond knew Penny was miserable. She was eight months pregnant and it was so hot Desmond was sure they could fry an egg on the upper deck. Despite this he was finding it hard to be in a bad mood. Penny, even sticky with sweat and grumbling about her lack of sleep, was more beautiful now than she had ever been. Not just because she was pregnant but because she was here with him. Their life felt like a dream, a wonderful dream he never wanted to wake up from.
“Des, bring the ice!” Penny called from their bedroom.
Desmond shook himself from his thoughts as he continued filling the bowl with ice cubes. His hands were dripping with water and freezing cold from scooping the ice out of the refrigerator. He couldn’t complain though, the coolness was a relief and he was looking forward to hearing Penny squeal when he stuck his hands to the back of her neck.
“Coming Pen!” he shouted back before turning to dry his hands on the kitchen towel. He picked up the bowl with one hand and reached for a nearby book with the other. He smiled to himself as he tucked the paperback into his back pocket.
“Took you long enough,” Penny moaned when he appeared in the doorway.
“Sorry, Love,” Desmond replied as he stretched across the bed to pass her the ice. Penny immediately popped a piece into her mouth and sighed.
“I’m never going to sleep again,” she said as she crunched her ice.
“Yes you will,” replied Desmond as he trailed a piece of ice down her neck causing Penny to shiver. “And I brought you a story.”
He reached into his pocket with his free hand and held the book up for her to see. Penny rolled her eyes and laughed.
“Very funny.”
Desmond grinned feeling satisfied with himself. He knew the book would make her laugh. He wiped his wet hand on his pants and turned to the first page of Great Expectations and began to read.
7. Desmond’s luck takes a turn and his old friend fate comes calling (Our Mutual Friend, Attempt #4)
The afternoon Desmond is released from the hospital a light mist of rain is hanging in the Los Angeles air. Little Charlie fusses all the way home and Penny is surprisingly quiet. Desmond can’t shake a feeling of foreboding, as if he expects someone to pop out at him at any moment and begin firing. He saw in the instant Benjamin Linus pulled his trigger how easily his family could be taken away and it scared the hell out of him.
They return to the boat and Penny takes little Charlie below the deck to put him down for his nap while Desmond remains above enjoying the cool air. He was just about to go below to join his family when a man standing on the dock catches his eye. He was a short man with blond hair and a crooked smile. He grinned at Desmond and raised a hand to wave. Desmond could see writing on the man’s palm. A chill ran down his spine.
“Charlie!” he called.
“Des, what’s the matter?” Penny’s voice came floating up from below the deck.
Desmond turned away from the ghost to answer her.
“Nothing, Pen!”
When he turned back the man was gone.
He was shaking now. There was no doubt in his mind who that man was or why he was there. The island was calling him back; he could feel it in his bones. He took a deep breath to steady himself and headed below deck. He walked over to the bookcase and reached to the very back until he found what he was looking for.
He sat down in his chair and opened Our Mutual Friend to the first page. Penny appeared in the doorway in front of him.
“What are you reading, Love?” she asked reaching out to push his book up so that she could read the cover. She jerked her hand away like the book had given her a shock.
“What the hell are you doing, Desmond?”
“I’m just reading,” Desmond replied as calmly as he could.
Penny shook her head. “Not that book. Not now.”
“It’s just a book, Penny. Just because I read it, it doesn’t mean I’m going to suddenly drop dead.”
Penny glared at him and snatched the book from his hands.
“I swear I will throw it overboard.”
“You’re being silly,” Desmond said reaching out for the book. She pulled it farther out of his reach.
“It’s not time to read this book, Des…not yet.” Her voice broke and Desmond got up from his chair and used his good arm to pull her against him.
“Alright, Pen. It’s okay, I won’t read it.”
Penny pulled back to look at him.
“You’re going back aren’t you?”
Desmond averted his eyes.
“I don’t know,” he lied.
Penny rested her head on his chest and whispered sadly, “You’re going back.”
***
Epilogue: In Which Our Hero Prepares For His End (Our Mutual Friend, The First Reading)
Desmond couldn’t help but feel a sense of awe as he stared around at the inside of the statue. It seemed awfully nice to be the inside of a foot. The blond man stood before him watching him with a look of pride.
“You’re going to save us all, Desmond. You should be very proud of yourself.”
“That’s easy for you to say, Brother. It’s not your head on the chopping block.”
“You’re right. What’s that line by Dickens? “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known.” Your death won’t be in vain Desmond. Your friends and family, they’ll live on. They’ll know the sacrifice that you made.”
Desmond laughed ruefully. “That doesn’t make it any easier to leave them behind.”
But Desmond had already reconciled himself to his fate. He would die today so that his son would continue to live. All that was left now was the waiting.
“Did you know that day in the bookstore?” Desmond asked suddenly.
Jacob smiled. “I’ve always known Desmond.”
Desmond nodded grimly and sat down on the cool stone floor.
“Well what should we do while we wait? Are you any good at card games?”
Jacob laughed. “I believe you have a book to read.”
Desmond shook his head sadly. “I left my book on the boat. Penny didn’t want me to take it.”
“That’s understandable.”
Jacob crouched down beside him and sat the book on his lap. Desmond looked up at him in shock.
“How?”
Jacob just shook his head. “It doesn’t matter how. Just enjoy your book, Desmond.”
Desmond looked back at the book and then to Jacob.
“Is there enough time?”
“Plenty.”
Desmond turned to the first page and at long last began to read his final Dickens.