(no subject)
Title: I've Got A Closet Filled Up To The Brim With The Ghosts Of My Past
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Hurley, Sayid, Jack, mentions of others.
Word Count: 666
Rating: R
Timeline: Post Season 4 premiere (major spoilers for it)
Summary: Nothing that dies on that island stays that way for long. This is a lesson they should have learned a long time ago.
Nothing that dies on that island stays that way.
This is a lesson they should’ve learned a long time ago.
---
“You need to tell, Hurley.”
The basketball bounces on the hardwood floors, the sound reverberating, Hurley hands finding their way to his ears once more.
Like that matters; Charlie talks whether he’s heard or not. “What bloody good has keeping secrets done for you anyway? For anyone?”
Hurley keeps right on humming, trying to block out Charlie’s voice. There was a time where he would’ve given anything to hear his best friend’s voice again. Now he’d give anything not to.
“And Claire? You just left her there. I died to save her, to save all of you. Do you want me to have died in vain? Is that what you want?”
Amid his memories of Claire, of Aaron, he can’t help but hear those words.
---
“In international news, one of the famed Oceanic Six has died.”
Sayid’s eyes snap to the television.
“Hugo Reyes, lottery winner and plane crash survivor, died Monday of an apparent suicide. Reyes had a long battle with mental problems and was most recently institutionalized at...”
The mute symbol appears in the corner of the screen, pixilated blue lettering.
It was a command he hadn’t made.
“Shame.”
In the usually solitary space of his apartment, Sayid realizes that he isn’t alone.
---
“You could at least answer me once in awhile you know.”
She’s at his heels, where she normally is, following him into his bedroom.
“You’re starting to remind me of my brother.”
“You’re not here.” He states, the first thing he’s said in response to this...figure, since she appeared. “You are dead. This is merely a trick of the mind.”
Just like in life, she always has a comeback. “Then how are we having this conversation again?”
“This is an internal conversation. I am not talking to you, I am talking to myself.”
She gives a heavy, annoyed sigh, and the next thing he knows he feels her fingers trailing down his arm.
Actually feels it.
“Now do you believe I’m really here?”
He closes his eyes, tells himself that when he opens them she’ll be gone. He’s stronger than this. But her fingers keep moving; he can’t focus. “Shannon - “
“You have to go back.” Her fingers leave his skin; cut to the chase, she’s got him where she wants him. “You have to go back and help those people.”
“That is impossible.” He doesn’t believe he’s having this conversation.
“Oh, it’s more possible than you think.”
He watches her gravitate towards the mirror, staring at her reflection appraisingly, smoothing down her hair. She looks just like he remembered her.
“You can make it happen. You can save these people.” Her fingers come up to touch the necklace hanging around her neck, the very same one he had placed on her grave marker. “You have to.”
---
“She makes a valid argument.” Sayid says, into the phone, before he catches himself, self-corrects. “There is a valid argument.”
“Are you listening to yourself?” Jack’s voice is thick with disbelief. “Sayid, you’re just seeing things; they don’t mean anything.”
“We left those people.”
“They made their decision.” But Jack sounds close to bending.
“Since when has that mattered?”
Because Jack saves people. Even if they make the wrong decisions.
Forgive, forget, move on.
“It does this time.”
---
Three weeks later a newspaper tells him Sayid’s just as dead as Hurley, and Jack thinks he should’ve seen this coming.
---
One minute he’s driving to the hospital; the next he’s at a stoplight and there’s a voice.
“Are you going to let all those people down too, Jack?”
He can’t look. He won’t.
“Are you going to fail them too?”
Piercing blue eyes watch his every movement as this man - this man with the flushed cheeks, the one he couldn’t save - waits for an answer.
Somehow Jack’s pretty sure that counting to five isn’t going to work this time.
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Hurley, Sayid, Jack, mentions of others.
Word Count: 666
Rating: R
Timeline: Post Season 4 premiere (major spoilers for it)
Summary: Nothing that dies on that island stays that way for long. This is a lesson they should have learned a long time ago.
Nothing that dies on that island stays that way.
This is a lesson they should’ve learned a long time ago.
---
“You need to tell, Hurley.”
The basketball bounces on the hardwood floors, the sound reverberating, Hurley hands finding their way to his ears once more.
Like that matters; Charlie talks whether he’s heard or not. “What bloody good has keeping secrets done for you anyway? For anyone?”
Hurley keeps right on humming, trying to block out Charlie’s voice. There was a time where he would’ve given anything to hear his best friend’s voice again. Now he’d give anything not to.
“And Claire? You just left her there. I died to save her, to save all of you. Do you want me to have died in vain? Is that what you want?”
Amid his memories of Claire, of Aaron, he can’t help but hear those words.
---
“In international news, one of the famed Oceanic Six has died.”
Sayid’s eyes snap to the television.
“Hugo Reyes, lottery winner and plane crash survivor, died Monday of an apparent suicide. Reyes had a long battle with mental problems and was most recently institutionalized at...”
The mute symbol appears in the corner of the screen, pixilated blue lettering.
It was a command he hadn’t made.
“Shame.”
In the usually solitary space of his apartment, Sayid realizes that he isn’t alone.
---
“You could at least answer me once in awhile you know.”
She’s at his heels, where she normally is, following him into his bedroom.
“You’re starting to remind me of my brother.”
“You’re not here.” He states, the first thing he’s said in response to this...figure, since she appeared. “You are dead. This is merely a trick of the mind.”
Just like in life, she always has a comeback. “Then how are we having this conversation again?”
“This is an internal conversation. I am not talking to you, I am talking to myself.”
She gives a heavy, annoyed sigh, and the next thing he knows he feels her fingers trailing down his arm.
Actually feels it.
“Now do you believe I’m really here?”
He closes his eyes, tells himself that when he opens them she’ll be gone. He’s stronger than this. But her fingers keep moving; he can’t focus. “Shannon - “
“You have to go back.” Her fingers leave his skin; cut to the chase, she’s got him where she wants him. “You have to go back and help those people.”
“That is impossible.” He doesn’t believe he’s having this conversation.
“Oh, it’s more possible than you think.”
He watches her gravitate towards the mirror, staring at her reflection appraisingly, smoothing down her hair. She looks just like he remembered her.
“You can make it happen. You can save these people.” Her fingers come up to touch the necklace hanging around her neck, the very same one he had placed on her grave marker. “You have to.”
---
“She makes a valid argument.” Sayid says, into the phone, before he catches himself, self-corrects. “There is a valid argument.”
“Are you listening to yourself?” Jack’s voice is thick with disbelief. “Sayid, you’re just seeing things; they don’t mean anything.”
“We left those people.”
“They made their decision.” But Jack sounds close to bending.
“Since when has that mattered?”
Because Jack saves people. Even if they make the wrong decisions.
Forgive, forget, move on.
“It does this time.”
---
Three weeks later a newspaper tells him Sayid’s just as dead as Hurley, and Jack thinks he should’ve seen this coming.
---
One minute he’s driving to the hospital; the next he’s at a stoplight and there’s a voice.
“Are you going to let all those people down too, Jack?”
He can’t look. He won’t.
“Are you going to fail them too?”
Piercing blue eyes watch his every movement as this man - this man with the flushed cheeks, the one he couldn’t save - waits for an answer.
Somehow Jack’s pretty sure that counting to five isn’t going to work this time.