LOST fic: Knowing
Title: Knowing
Characters: Jacob, Man in Black, mention of Ben
Rating: PG
Words: 600
The night before the plane crash they had sat side by side on the sand, the ocean stretching before them, a dark, deep canvas upon which Jacob wished to paint his wisdom. The sand was still warm from the heat of the day. It seeped up into their bones reminding them both that after centuries it was still possible to feel, to appreciate the confluence of a day's heat with the cool breeze off the ocean.
"They're coming," Jacob says, although they both know it already. The other man knows it, but doesn't feel it as Jacob does. Jacob feels the crash of the waves on the shore, each one seeming to pull the plane closer until it will at last fall from the sky.
"It's different this time," the other man says. Jacob knows this too. "But you will still be wrong."
Jacob shrugs and knows there is no reason to argue. With the rising of the sun, it will not matter.
"They're coming." Jacob speaks it like a promise or a prayer. "They bring the end with them."
Beside him, the man stands. "They bring my ending, Jacob. And thus, yours."
He goes, and the slight hint of something sulfurous in the air is the only indication that he was ever there at all.
Jacob watches the ocean for the rest of the night and breathes each wave into the shore, listens to the humming of the plane engine as it echoes through his bones.
**
The day the plane crashed was the last time Jacob saw him. He was standing on the edge of the jungle, as if the sand was some sort of barrier between them, some part of their rules that even they barely remembered now.
Jacob stood on the rocks outside his home. The other man watched him for a long moment, his eyes dark and lidded. Jacob thought about all the grains of sand between them, knew he could count each one--if he wanted. His enemy would be so very angry at that, would fume with the frustration of never having the same knowledge of each grain, nor the patience it took to know them.
Jacob smiled to himself and thought of the centuries stretching between them, of the threats, the heat of the jungle, ships on the ocean, men in the earth.
The other man raised a hand. And Jacob did not care if it was in farewell or greeting, or perhaps a final threat, an oath.
Jacob turned toward the ocean and squinted up at the blue, blue sky. It was a beautiful day for the end to begin.
**
It's the certainty of the man who looks like Locke that surprises Jacob. The way he is quite sure this--this very moment--is his ending.
What happens next could last a moment or a lifetime but it's all the same to Jacob. Just as he knows the grains of sand, he knows the pangs in Ben's heart. Jacob knows each hour between the then and now. But it is not yet Ben Linus' time. Not yet, and Jacob slips one last pang into Ben's heart.
Then there's this: the feeling, rather than the knowing, of how steel feels as it is slipped into your heart.
"They're coming," Jacob rasps out. They're coming still, for this is not the end. Not here, not now. Not even as the man who seems to be Locke kicks his bleeding body into the fire.
No, it will not end with this conflagration. There is a bigger one yet to come and Jacob knows this.
They're coming.
Characters: Jacob, Man in Black, mention of Ben
Rating: PG
Words: 600
The night before the plane crash they had sat side by side on the sand, the ocean stretching before them, a dark, deep canvas upon which Jacob wished to paint his wisdom. The sand was still warm from the heat of the day. It seeped up into their bones reminding them both that after centuries it was still possible to feel, to appreciate the confluence of a day's heat with the cool breeze off the ocean.
"They're coming," Jacob says, although they both know it already. The other man knows it, but doesn't feel it as Jacob does. Jacob feels the crash of the waves on the shore, each one seeming to pull the plane closer until it will at last fall from the sky.
"It's different this time," the other man says. Jacob knows this too. "But you will still be wrong."
Jacob shrugs and knows there is no reason to argue. With the rising of the sun, it will not matter.
"They're coming." Jacob speaks it like a promise or a prayer. "They bring the end with them."
Beside him, the man stands. "They bring my ending, Jacob. And thus, yours."
He goes, and the slight hint of something sulfurous in the air is the only indication that he was ever there at all.
Jacob watches the ocean for the rest of the night and breathes each wave into the shore, listens to the humming of the plane engine as it echoes through his bones.
**
The day the plane crashed was the last time Jacob saw him. He was standing on the edge of the jungle, as if the sand was some sort of barrier between them, some part of their rules that even they barely remembered now.
Jacob stood on the rocks outside his home. The other man watched him for a long moment, his eyes dark and lidded. Jacob thought about all the grains of sand between them, knew he could count each one--if he wanted. His enemy would be so very angry at that, would fume with the frustration of never having the same knowledge of each grain, nor the patience it took to know them.
Jacob smiled to himself and thought of the centuries stretching between them, of the threats, the heat of the jungle, ships on the ocean, men in the earth.
The other man raised a hand. And Jacob did not care if it was in farewell or greeting, or perhaps a final threat, an oath.
Jacob turned toward the ocean and squinted up at the blue, blue sky. It was a beautiful day for the end to begin.
**
It's the certainty of the man who looks like Locke that surprises Jacob. The way he is quite sure this--this very moment--is his ending.
What happens next could last a moment or a lifetime but it's all the same to Jacob. Just as he knows the grains of sand, he knows the pangs in Ben's heart. Jacob knows each hour between the then and now. But it is not yet Ben Linus' time. Not yet, and Jacob slips one last pang into Ben's heart.
Then there's this: the feeling, rather than the knowing, of how steel feels as it is slipped into your heart.
"They're coming," Jacob rasps out. They're coming still, for this is not the end. Not here, not now. Not even as the man who seems to be Locke kicks his bleeding body into the fire.
No, it will not end with this conflagration. There is a bigger one yet to come and Jacob knows this.
They're coming.