Composure: 50ficlets
Title: Composure
Author: weatheredlaw
Claim: Benjamin Linus
Prompt: #43 Cheap Shots
Fandom: LOST
Rating: G
Word Count: 248
Summary: After years of what he's done, this is his reward.
Notes/Warnings: Set pre-crash, when Ben finds out he has a tumor.
He paces. The cool façade vanishes and he walks from one side of the kitchen to another, hands carefully placed over his back, noting that few layers truly separate his fingers from what might kill him. The pain is gone for now, but later it will radiate through his body and he’ll have to sit down and bite his fist to stop from crying out. Alex is in her room, unaware. He breathes.
After years of this. Of serving whoever was wherever whenever they asked. Jacob. Richard. Charles. Eloise. After it all, he is given this. It’s a cheap shot, he feels. His arms and legs are beginning to ache. Sweat covers his forehead. In a few moments, he feels like he wants to cry. Or die. Or a bit of both.
Perhaps the latter will be easier to achieve than he had thought.
He’s lost count of how many times he’s been shot or shot at. How many times he’s nearly died. It’s strange that after all these years, this is how it happens. A tumor on his spine. Maybe he’ll be shot to death before it all ends. The pain begins crawling up his spine to the base of his neck. He shivers and leans against a corner of the kitchen, taking deep breaths.
The world around him spins a bit faster. He closes his eyes. Breathes. A knock at the door. He composes himself.
Tumor or no tumor, Bejamin Linus still has work to do.
Author: weatheredlaw
Claim: Benjamin Linus
Prompt: #43 Cheap Shots
Fandom: LOST
Rating: G
Word Count: 248
Summary: After years of what he's done, this is his reward.
Notes/Warnings: Set pre-crash, when Ben finds out he has a tumor.
He paces. The cool façade vanishes and he walks from one side of the kitchen to another, hands carefully placed over his back, noting that few layers truly separate his fingers from what might kill him. The pain is gone for now, but later it will radiate through his body and he’ll have to sit down and bite his fist to stop from crying out. Alex is in her room, unaware. He breathes.
After years of this. Of serving whoever was wherever whenever they asked. Jacob. Richard. Charles. Eloise. After it all, he is given this. It’s a cheap shot, he feels. His arms and legs are beginning to ache. Sweat covers his forehead. In a few moments, he feels like he wants to cry. Or die. Or a bit of both.
Perhaps the latter will be easier to achieve than he had thought.
He’s lost count of how many times he’s been shot or shot at. How many times he’s nearly died. It’s strange that after all these years, this is how it happens. A tumor on his spine. Maybe he’ll be shot to death before it all ends. The pain begins crawling up his spine to the base of his neck. He shivers and leans against a corner of the kitchen, taking deep breaths.
The world around him spins a bit faster. He closes his eyes. Breathes. A knock at the door. He composes himself.
Tumor or no tumor, Bejamin Linus still has work to do.