(no subject)
Title: Goodnight Goodnight
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Sawyer, Clementine | Kate/Sawyer, Clementine/Aaron
Word Count: 797
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: #71 - Lies for 100_tales
Author's Note: Completely AU. And I took a few liberties with ages as well.
Summary: Future fic. "Don't you think you're a little old for this?" Her voice sounds like a siren amid the silent house.
“Don’t you think you’re a little old for this?”
Her voice sounds like a siren amid the silent house. The television’s on, casting blue tinted shadows on the walls, the furniture, her face. How had he missed that?
Slowly, calculatedly, her eyes slide from a late night infomercial to him. And then she waits for an answer.
“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep upstairs?” Sawyer asks, even though he doesn’t actually know that. He hadn’t even expected her to be here.
“Aren’t you?” She retorts, pushing a strand of brown hair behind her ear. When he doesn’t answer, she adds, quietly. “And he snores.”
Sawyer almost laughs; it’s so trivial. “You’ll get used to it.”
He thinks there might be a faint smile on her lips as she says, “You’re giving me advice now?”
“Ain’t I supposed to?” He wants to take a step into the living room, wants to sit down and make this into a real conversation, but there’s that thought in the back of his mind that she’ll clam up if he does.
She looks directly at him now. “No, what you’re supposed to do is tell me that I’m too young for this and it’s unacceptable and I should go home. And then I’m supposed to tell you it’s a little late for you to start caring.”
It hurts but that’s nothing new. “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out. Don’t need me for anything.”
“Nope.” She presses a button on the remote; an old rerun of some doctor show clicks on. “Don’t need you.”
“Right.” And just like that it’s another dead conversation. Another wrong in a long series of them. “Goodnight.”
His right foot hits the bottom stair about the same time as her voice picks up again, this time with less malice. “Do you even love her?”
Sawyer suddenly doesn’t trust his hearing. “What?”
“Do you love her?” She enunciates each word, each one like a gunshot piercing the air.
The fact that he doesn’t answer tells her all she needs to know. She may not like him but she can understand him, she can read him.
After a moment, one in which he thinks they’re really done here, she continues. “I’ve seen her with Jack you know. And he may be a drunk and occasionally unstable but he’s still there. He’s getting better and he doesn’t disappear. “She pulls one knee to her chest, rests her chin atop it. “So you will lose her if you don’t grow up.”
He snorts. “A seventeen year old is telling me to grow up.”
“This seventeen year old has a better relationship than you do.”
“You’re a kid; so is he. Everything’s easier when you’re a kid.”
“What about when you’re a kid who lives a lie?” She narrows her eyes at him. “You know Aaron still doesn’t know you’re my dad. Or even that she isn’t his mother. He knows nothing about plane crashes and faked deaths. We live lies.”
He looks down, her words this close to yelling, hoarse, and this is worse than any fight he’s ever had with Kate. Because this is more to him; she means more to him.
“We live lies,” she repeats again, quieter this time. “We tell lies and keep secrets because they’re your lies and your secrets and you’ve kept them alive so long that we inherited them.” She shakes her head; he thinks she might be crying. “And one day he’s going to figure out that I know more than I say. One day he’s going to figure out that I’ve been lying to him just as much as all of you have; that I’m not better than all of you. And on that day I will still have my life, and my relationships, figured out better than you do.”
Sawyer forces back his own words, swallows that along with the lump in his throat.
“Maybe you should think about that next time you leave to do whatever it is that you do.”
In that moment he knows two things. The first is that she probably will never truly forgive him for lost time. The second is that all his failures, all his mistakes, have done nothing but make her stronger than he ever was.
She isn’t looking at him anymore, signaling that she is, finally, done with this, and all he has left to say is, “Goodnight Clementine.”
His words are met with silence.
Later, as he’s getting into bed, Kate fast asleep and unmoving, he can hear her footsteps on the stairs, making a beeline for Aaron’s room across the hall. Sawyer can hear the door click closed, the sixteen year old boy’s muffled response and something that is almost certainly a sob. Her.
He doesn’t sleep that night.
Fandom: Lost
Characters/Pairings: Sawyer, Clementine | Kate/Sawyer, Clementine/Aaron
Word Count: 797
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: #71 - Lies for 100_tales
Author's Note: Completely AU. And I took a few liberties with ages as well.
Summary: Future fic. "Don't you think you're a little old for this?" Her voice sounds like a siren amid the silent house.
“Don’t you think you’re a little old for this?”
Her voice sounds like a siren amid the silent house. The television’s on, casting blue tinted shadows on the walls, the furniture, her face. How had he missed that?
Slowly, calculatedly, her eyes slide from a late night infomercial to him. And then she waits for an answer.
“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep upstairs?” Sawyer asks, even though he doesn’t actually know that. He hadn’t even expected her to be here.
“Aren’t you?” She retorts, pushing a strand of brown hair behind her ear. When he doesn’t answer, she adds, quietly. “And he snores.”
Sawyer almost laughs; it’s so trivial. “You’ll get used to it.”
He thinks there might be a faint smile on her lips as she says, “You’re giving me advice now?”
“Ain’t I supposed to?” He wants to take a step into the living room, wants to sit down and make this into a real conversation, but there’s that thought in the back of his mind that she’ll clam up if he does.
She looks directly at him now. “No, what you’re supposed to do is tell me that I’m too young for this and it’s unacceptable and I should go home. And then I’m supposed to tell you it’s a little late for you to start caring.”
It hurts but that’s nothing new. “Sounds like you’ve got it all planned out. Don’t need me for anything.”
“Nope.” She presses a button on the remote; an old rerun of some doctor show clicks on. “Don’t need you.”
“Right.” And just like that it’s another dead conversation. Another wrong in a long series of them. “Goodnight.”
His right foot hits the bottom stair about the same time as her voice picks up again, this time with less malice. “Do you even love her?”
Sawyer suddenly doesn’t trust his hearing. “What?”
“Do you love her?” She enunciates each word, each one like a gunshot piercing the air.
The fact that he doesn’t answer tells her all she needs to know. She may not like him but she can understand him, she can read him.
After a moment, one in which he thinks they’re really done here, she continues. “I’ve seen her with Jack you know. And he may be a drunk and occasionally unstable but he’s still there. He’s getting better and he doesn’t disappear. “She pulls one knee to her chest, rests her chin atop it. “So you will lose her if you don’t grow up.”
He snorts. “A seventeen year old is telling me to grow up.”
“This seventeen year old has a better relationship than you do.”
“You’re a kid; so is he. Everything’s easier when you’re a kid.”
“What about when you’re a kid who lives a lie?” She narrows her eyes at him. “You know Aaron still doesn’t know you’re my dad. Or even that she isn’t his mother. He knows nothing about plane crashes and faked deaths. We live lies.”
He looks down, her words this close to yelling, hoarse, and this is worse than any fight he’s ever had with Kate. Because this is more to him; she means more to him.
“We live lies,” she repeats again, quieter this time. “We tell lies and keep secrets because they’re your lies and your secrets and you’ve kept them alive so long that we inherited them.” She shakes her head; he thinks she might be crying. “And one day he’s going to figure out that I know more than I say. One day he’s going to figure out that I’ve been lying to him just as much as all of you have; that I’m not better than all of you. And on that day I will still have my life, and my relationships, figured out better than you do.”
Sawyer forces back his own words, swallows that along with the lump in his throat.
“Maybe you should think about that next time you leave to do whatever it is that you do.”
In that moment he knows two things. The first is that she probably will never truly forgive him for lost time. The second is that all his failures, all his mistakes, have done nothing but make her stronger than he ever was.
She isn’t looking at him anymore, signaling that she is, finally, done with this, and all he has left to say is, “Goodnight Clementine.”
His words are met with silence.
Later, as he’s getting into bed, Kate fast asleep and unmoving, he can hear her footsteps on the stairs, making a beeline for Aaron’s room across the hall. Sawyer can hear the door click closed, the sixteen year old boy’s muffled response and something that is almost certainly a sob. Her.
He doesn’t sleep that night.