for iloveyoursoul
because i know you will never stop asking. it got longer than i anticipated, of course. & no i don't know the if or where it is going next.
also, damnit i need more icons someday. ha ha. this one is so not appropriate.
“Et tu, Jarrah?”
The voice that came out wasn’t quite his own, shock and agony wadding up all sound when it was still lodged in his throat. His already large eyes eyes stared widely on the spreading blossom of crimson sticking his shirt thick against his torso, upper jaw locking down hard and twisting his face into a distorted mask of pain. Each thought he tried to gather wasn’t allowed time to form, the stabbing foreign invasion of the bullet demanding instead that he keep reminding himself that fuck--this really hurt.
Why is it still red? The shirt is yellow, it should be gre-
….Fuck this hurts.
He didn’t finish the job. A man like this, he alwa-
Screaming red….
At his hands. A man I shared mangos with, at his fuc-
Deathispain. This is pain.
No one will see me here. I’ll die here because no one-
Fuckfuckfuckfuckithurtsithurtssososobad.
Forgot my cell phone today, I’ll die because I forgot my fucking ce-
Painfuckthepainpainpain.
Maybe if I pretend I’m somewhere else. Mind over m-
Oh fuck this hurts.
“I’m going to die here.”
…Wait, was that one out loud?
------------------
“We were all wondering what happened to you.”
Tyler pushed the small piece of plastic over the window, taking a moment to marvel at the strange form always chosen for these windows. Tiny little ovals with squared corners as if no aircraft designer could firmly decide upon one actual shape. He turned away after this brief thought, grateful that he had the ability to shut out the views outside. Just like the rest, he had been given free flight vouchers for life--but he still hated flying all the same. Some nightmares didn’t go quietly into that night. The crash years ago left him generally deciding against plane trips nowadays. Not that this little trip was exactly a decision he had made for himself.
He stared out the closed window instead of face her when he replied, “What then, you all had a book club?”
She rolled her eyes at his response, he knew it even without looking at her. He also knew that she was probably pulling a long strand of chestnut hair off her face, tucking it back behind her ear and back amidst her perpetual ponytail in that way she always did when she felt slightly awkward. He waited for her to speak, knowing she wouldn‘t be able to resist taking another stab. “It was just…most of us knew you came back to the States last year, but then you disappeared.”
Finally he turned to look at her, focusing his steely gaze as directly as he could manage. His voice came out even and frigid. “Did you think maybe I didn’t want to see any of you?”
Already her eyes were narrowing into angered slits, but it was her first stage of anger. The one that showed irritation but not that she was going to give up--the one that made her slightly flushed so that her freckles stood out even more than usual against her soft complexion. He noticed again for the first time in years what it was that made them chase after her once upon a time. Almost made him glad he never seemed to fancy brunettes. Blondes though…
“It’s not our fault she’s still there. You can’t blame us.”
His hands curled against his arm rest, fingers digging into the barely padded fabric there. He made a small tsking noise with his mouth before shaking his head a little bit. “No, she made the decision to stay on the freighter.” He sneered. “But you were the ones who wouldn’t let me stay with her.”
Her head dropped then and with a small sigh she stood from her seat next to him. She moved instead back to her seat, fist under her chin and eyes cast out the window in the opposite direction from him. Tyler knew he should have felt bad for the way he was treating her, they had always been as close as anyone could have been with him then. Truth was it wasn’t even her that had stopped him on the freighter--but she was the one who went home to someone. She was the one who got to have a family and wrap her hand in the hand of the man she thought she had loved. She got what he wasn’t allowed, and he was left instead with the memory and the not knowing.
His eyes shifted a few rows behind him vacantly, trying hard not to stare back at Ford. He had already fallen asleep, completely oblivious to any of the rest of their group. Or at least that was how he was coming across. Tyler was starting to gather that Ford was faking his slumber.
Tyler was even more certain that the soft-spoken Aussie’s decision to feign sleep had a good deal to do with his presence. Neither of them had spoken to the other since that last day on the island, save the heated discussion between most of them in the parking lot not too much earlier. In the lot Ben had been the only thing stopping Tyler and Ford from ripping each other apart, strangely enough. And he figured it was only the church that kept Ford from making his move later when they spoke to Eloise.
He decided that maybe Ford did have the right idea, maybe sleeping was the best route to attempt. On the first flight he had been wide awake, hadn’t missed a minute of the terror. Maybe this time around he could sleep. Wake up on sand with her face inches from his. Tyler began to feel the sun already, could smell the sweet jasmine of her skin as if she were next to him.
No matter what he had seen, no matter the intensity of the explosion--something deep in him knew that she was still alive. Tyler knew fully that the loss of her would be tangible to him, something that he would have felt the moment of her passing. Ford had been blindly accused earlier that the only reason he was coming back was because it was the thing the good guy did. Tyler couldn’t believe that it was as simple as that--Ford just believed she drew breathe still as much as he did.
They two were still running the same race. Except now each man was willing to kick out the legs from under the other.
He began to drift off, mind trying to gather up the smallest of changes that could have developed on her face in the past three years. If she had cut her hair since he saw her last--or if it had grown in wild sun kissed cascades down her back. Where she had ended up…what had come of her, if harm had fallen on her. The questions were as endless as ever, at least he could fall asleep knowing this time that answers awaited him soon…..
TBC
and so.
also, damnit i need more icons someday. ha ha. this one is so not appropriate.
“Et tu, Jarrah?”
The voice that came out wasn’t quite his own, shock and agony wadding up all sound when it was still lodged in his throat. His already large eyes eyes stared widely on the spreading blossom of crimson sticking his shirt thick against his torso, upper jaw locking down hard and twisting his face into a distorted mask of pain. Each thought he tried to gather wasn’t allowed time to form, the stabbing foreign invasion of the bullet demanding instead that he keep reminding himself that fuck--this really hurt.
Why is it still red? The shirt is yellow, it should be gre-
….Fuck this hurts.
He didn’t finish the job. A man like this, he alwa-
Screaming red….
At his hands. A man I shared mangos with, at his fuc-
Deathispain. This is pain.
No one will see me here. I’ll die here because no one-
Fuckfuckfuckfuckithurtsithurtssososobad.
Forgot my cell phone today, I’ll die because I forgot my fucking ce-
Painfuckthepainpainpain.
Maybe if I pretend I’m somewhere else. Mind over m-
Oh fuck this hurts.
“I’m going to die here.”
…Wait, was that one out loud?
------------------
“We were all wondering what happened to you.”
Tyler pushed the small piece of plastic over the window, taking a moment to marvel at the strange form always chosen for these windows. Tiny little ovals with squared corners as if no aircraft designer could firmly decide upon one actual shape. He turned away after this brief thought, grateful that he had the ability to shut out the views outside. Just like the rest, he had been given free flight vouchers for life--but he still hated flying all the same. Some nightmares didn’t go quietly into that night. The crash years ago left him generally deciding against plane trips nowadays. Not that this little trip was exactly a decision he had made for himself.
He stared out the closed window instead of face her when he replied, “What then, you all had a book club?”
She rolled her eyes at his response, he knew it even without looking at her. He also knew that she was probably pulling a long strand of chestnut hair off her face, tucking it back behind her ear and back amidst her perpetual ponytail in that way she always did when she felt slightly awkward. He waited for her to speak, knowing she wouldn‘t be able to resist taking another stab. “It was just…most of us knew you came back to the States last year, but then you disappeared.”
Finally he turned to look at her, focusing his steely gaze as directly as he could manage. His voice came out even and frigid. “Did you think maybe I didn’t want to see any of you?”
Already her eyes were narrowing into angered slits, but it was her first stage of anger. The one that showed irritation but not that she was going to give up--the one that made her slightly flushed so that her freckles stood out even more than usual against her soft complexion. He noticed again for the first time in years what it was that made them chase after her once upon a time. Almost made him glad he never seemed to fancy brunettes. Blondes though…
“It’s not our fault she’s still there. You can’t blame us.”
His hands curled against his arm rest, fingers digging into the barely padded fabric there. He made a small tsking noise with his mouth before shaking his head a little bit. “No, she made the decision to stay on the freighter.” He sneered. “But you were the ones who wouldn’t let me stay with her.”
Her head dropped then and with a small sigh she stood from her seat next to him. She moved instead back to her seat, fist under her chin and eyes cast out the window in the opposite direction from him. Tyler knew he should have felt bad for the way he was treating her, they had always been as close as anyone could have been with him then. Truth was it wasn’t even her that had stopped him on the freighter--but she was the one who went home to someone. She was the one who got to have a family and wrap her hand in the hand of the man she thought she had loved. She got what he wasn’t allowed, and he was left instead with the memory and the not knowing.
His eyes shifted a few rows behind him vacantly, trying hard not to stare back at Ford. He had already fallen asleep, completely oblivious to any of the rest of their group. Or at least that was how he was coming across. Tyler was starting to gather that Ford was faking his slumber.
Tyler was even more certain that the soft-spoken Aussie’s decision to feign sleep had a good deal to do with his presence. Neither of them had spoken to the other since that last day on the island, save the heated discussion between most of them in the parking lot not too much earlier. In the lot Ben had been the only thing stopping Tyler and Ford from ripping each other apart, strangely enough. And he figured it was only the church that kept Ford from making his move later when they spoke to Eloise.
He decided that maybe Ford did have the right idea, maybe sleeping was the best route to attempt. On the first flight he had been wide awake, hadn’t missed a minute of the terror. Maybe this time around he could sleep. Wake up on sand with her face inches from his. Tyler began to feel the sun already, could smell the sweet jasmine of her skin as if she were next to him.
No matter what he had seen, no matter the intensity of the explosion--something deep in him knew that she was still alive. Tyler knew fully that the loss of her would be tangible to him, something that he would have felt the moment of her passing. Ford had been blindly accused earlier that the only reason he was coming back was because it was the thing the good guy did. Tyler couldn’t believe that it was as simple as that--Ford just believed she drew breathe still as much as he did.
They two were still running the same race. Except now each man was willing to kick out the legs from under the other.
He began to drift off, mind trying to gather up the smallest of changes that could have developed on her face in the past three years. If she had cut her hair since he saw her last--or if it had grown in wild sun kissed cascades down her back. Where she had ended up…what had come of her, if harm had fallen on her. The questions were as endless as ever, at least he could fall asleep knowing this time that answers awaited him soon…..
TBC
and so.