(no subject)
Title: Musical Graves
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Kate, Jack, Sawyer, pairings within
Prompt:
eponine119wanted OT3 fic
Word Count: 238
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: I haven't been keeping up with the luau but this came into my head and wanted to be written. Product of way too much speculation and what if's.
Summary: Disregarding the Season 3 finale. The other way to end the triangle.
The only way this triangle ended was death.
He didn’t really remember what made him say it, or how he phrased it, he just remembers the sentiment. It had just been the two of them and too much liquor, the one and only night that they ever discussed Kate and this ongoing game of tug of war they seemed to have with her. They’d declared this done and over with and then started it up again so many times that it was ridiculous. One week he was with Kate and the next she had her sights set on Jack again.
It wasn’t like it was unwarranted. They’d all had their share of scares: he got shot, Kate broke her ankle and got stuck in the middle of the jungle on one of her adventures where she decided not to tell anyone where she was going, and Jack had a nasty habitat of putting himself in harm’s way for the sake of pretty much everyone else. They had played a fairly decent game of musical graves.
It was all in jest. They had so many close calls, so many times where they tempted fate, that he was sure he wasn’t the only one starting to feel invincible. He’d laughed, Jack had too, and they hadn’t given it another thought.
Six months later, standing over Jack’s grave, as Hurley tried and failed his way through a eulogy, he wasn’t laughing.
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Kate, Jack, Sawyer, pairings within
Prompt:
eponine119wanted OT3 fic
Word Count: 238
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: I haven't been keeping up with the luau but this came into my head and wanted to be written. Product of way too much speculation and what if's.
Summary: Disregarding the Season 3 finale. The other way to end the triangle.
The only way this triangle ended was death.
He didn’t really remember what made him say it, or how he phrased it, he just remembers the sentiment. It had just been the two of them and too much liquor, the one and only night that they ever discussed Kate and this ongoing game of tug of war they seemed to have with her. They’d declared this done and over with and then started it up again so many times that it was ridiculous. One week he was with Kate and the next she had her sights set on Jack again.
It wasn’t like it was unwarranted. They’d all had their share of scares: he got shot, Kate broke her ankle and got stuck in the middle of the jungle on one of her adventures where she decided not to tell anyone where she was going, and Jack had a nasty habitat of putting himself in harm’s way for the sake of pretty much everyone else. They had played a fairly decent game of musical graves.
It was all in jest. They had so many close calls, so many times where they tempted fate, that he was sure he wasn’t the only one starting to feel invincible. He’d laughed, Jack had too, and they hadn’t given it another thought.
Six months later, standing over Jack’s grave, as Hurley tried and failed his way through a eulogy, he wasn’t laughing.