lost fic: lay your weary head to rest (jacob/richard)
Title: lay your weary head to rest
Character(s)/Pairing(s): jacob/richard + hurley
Word Count/Rating: 2,039, pg
Summary: with every give, there is a take. spoilers for 6x01/02 and maybe speculation for down the road.
A/N: Written for the sacred_20 prompt, priest.
There is a moment, briefly, before he dies where he remembers what it was like before.
He used to watch Richard sleep - watch him inhale and exhale and wonder over the complexities of being human. Count the breaths as tally marks to an inevitable death. He waited twenty years to make Richard immortal. Each night was like a nail in his own coffin. But he waited for Richard to ask, for it to be less selfish - or maybe just a more acceptable brand of selfish.
Richard doesn't sleep soundly after his mortality is taken away. Jacob watches him toss and turn - trying to get back to that peaceful bliss.
He never forgets he was the one who took it away.
With every give, there is a take.
---
This was their usual dance - Esau would destroy and Jacob would try not blink. He had tried so many times before to save them, only to have it fail. A tiny victory for Esau, a crushing defeat for Jacob. It hurt too much to try.
Something changed when he saw Richard. He was chained to the hull, minutes from drowning or seconds from being consumed by smoke - whichever death chose first. There were others in his situation, others who screamed - begged and pleaded for their lives, called to their deities. But Richard seemed so calm, so ready. He did not fear death.
It was - still is - that rare brand of irony.
---
They have a falling out.
Jacob cannot remember over what. Richard still serves him because it's all he knows - all he can remember. But they go years without seeing each other. Richard takes orders from a faceless monster because he's too angry to know any better.
Jacob dies knowing that Richard will blame himself for this.
He dies knowing that he'll be both right and wrong at the same time.
---
Jacob waded through water, stepped over dead bodies and found Richard barely conscious. He broke the chains in one knock as if they were made of tissue, and then cradled the body, an arm beneath his knees and around his shoulders. He brought Richard from the dark, damp hull into the filtered sunlight of the island shore.
Richard shied away from the light, turning into Jacob's body as he did so. He glanced up briefly at Jacob, but long enough apparently to make an appraisal.
"I didn't ask to be saved," Richard murmured before his eyes drifted shut again on their own accord.
Jacob eyed the dead weight in his arms curiously.
---
It's the worst feeling in the world.
Watching Richard pace the four corners of his room as he counts all his missteps from the past thirty years. He berates himself silently and loses every angle of the aloof facade he had perfected so well.
And Jacob can do nothing but watch as Richard's world slips through his fingers and all that's left is that same broken man who didn't believe he could be saved.
---
While Richard was recovering, Jacob hovered. It had been a long time since he took care of anyone, and never really like he was then. Richard healed quick enough, but the toll it took on his body left him wandering in and out of sleep for ten days. Jacob, who was used to years blinking by, never realized how long a week and a half could drag.
Whenever Richard was awake, he didn't speak. Jacob already kept his questions to a minimum and most could be answered with a tilt or shake of a head so it was hard to notice.
The silence seemed to press more heavily on Richard than Jacob. As he gained strength and his hours awake grew, he spent more time watching Jacob. His eyes were filled with distrust - fear. He was always on alert, which wore on his already weakened body. Jacob didn't understand it. People usually took a liking to him, as if optimism was both something they could sense and contagious.
But then, this all had started because Richard wasn't like most people.
---
Sometimes, Richard would rub at the center of his forehead or pinch the bridge of his nose. He'd chew the left side of his lip or scratch at his jaw with his thumb. He'd breath into his folded hands or close his eyes and count to some indiscernible number in his head.
Sometimes, he'd murmur prayers in Latin to a God he knew long before Jacob.
Richard would never admit it to Jacob, but sometimes he was as tired as he looked.
---
It took ten days for Richard to get better and fourteen days for him to break the mundane silence.
They drank hot water as the sun began to peak over the horizon. Even sick, Richard was an early riser. He propped himself against the base of Taweret and watched the tide.
"The morning skies are always red," Richard whispered, his voice hoarse.
Jacob was vaguely aware of the saying he was referring to. Richard wasn't the first man to arrive by boat.
"This island doesn't like companions," Jacob replied, attempting to sound casual, but meaning it as a warning against Esau. Richard seemed to take it as a metaphor for something entirely else.
"I didn't ask you to save me," he said, eyes narrowed.
Jacob realized it was the second time Richard had said it and that both times Richard had sounded uncomfortable with the very notion - as if it were a debt he'd rather not pay. Jacob wished he didn't understand. The idea that someone could feel that unworthy of being healed made his heart clench.
They were sitting side by side and so it was easy for Jacob to reach out and place a hand over Richard's as he spoke. "You never need to ask."
Richard stared at the hand gently coating his. For a second, the worries in his eyes were gone.
---
Jacob finds Hurley alone, gathering supplies. His people have fractured - some staying within the safe haven of the temple and others attempting to rebuild the camp they once called home. Hurley chooses the temple, but it doesn't stop him from helping his friends who choose differently.
Hurley has reluctantly embraced his ability to converse with the dead, so he does little more than flinch when Jacob approaches him.
"It worked," Hurley says.
Jacob smiles somewhat bitterly. The first favor he asked of Hurley seems to have come a lifetime ago.
"I know," Jacob says. He takes a seat on one of the logs in line to be split for firewood and folds his hands in his lap, mirroring the image of contemplation. "Hugo, I have another favor to ask of you."
"Is this one gonna end with someone drowning my friend or a bunch of guns pointed at my head? Because I'm really not up for it, man."
"No. It's nothing like that." Jacob pauses. He considers leaving it there, but it goes against his very nature. "But it's important that you know, Hugo, that you have a choice-"
"Yeah, yeah. I got it by now." Hurley smiles. "What do you need?"
---
Most of their time spent together was at night. It was the only time Richard could sneak away from his people without suspicion. Some leaders were more suspicious than others. Ellie, for instance, knew something was going on, but knowing her own complicated situation with Charles, she kept quiet.
"They vanished, Jacob," Richard said. He was sitting down beside Jacob, arm pressed comfortably against Jacob's side. Richard appeared to be relaxed, but his eyes were narrowed, and Jacob could see his mind was still restless.
"Stranger things have happened," Jacob offered, and maybe it was true, but more likely it was just an empty promise.
Richard finally took his eyes off the tapestry lined wall across from them and turned to look at Jacob. He considered his companion carefully. "Do you think I should check out John Locke's story?"
Jacob frowned. "If it will make you feel better."
If it was possible, Richard looked even more worried. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
Jacob did not sigh, though he was aware it would convey the proper exasperation at the question. "Contrary to popular believe, I am not omniscient."
Richard was still staring, eyes trained to spot any tell in Jacob's face. Jacob knew if Richard looked too long he could see too much. So he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Richard's. Richard was reluctant to respond, as if part of him knew what was going on. Jacob was a patient man, and soon enough, a gentle sigh had escaped Richard's lips as he gave in.
When they separated, Richard could not find the strength to open his eyes. Jacob kissed his forehead, wishing his gift for healing could extend to the troubles of the mind.
"Rest," Jacob demanded, and Richard kept his eyes closed, tucking his head against the curve of Jacob's neck.
Jacob was aware that by coaxing Richard into a submission, he had only temporarily avoided the truth. There were things Richard should know.
They were things Jacob didn't have the heart to tell him.
---
Jacob can tell that Hurley is seriously regretting saying yes to his request. He stands outside Richard's room for five minutes, hand raised but afraid to knock.
"Hugo," Jacob says softly when he's sure Hurley needs a little push.
Hurley's eyes snapped back towards him. "Have you ever seen the movie Ghost?" Hurley asks, but before Jacob can tell him no, he shakes his head. "Never mind."
He knocks twice. The sound ricochets strangely in the tunneled hallway. Richard's room is buried deep underground in the lowest levels of the temple.
Richard does not hide his surprise to see Hurley when he opens the door. "Can I help you?"
"Uh yeah," Hurley's eyes flicker to Jacob's before returning to Richard. "You're Richard, right?"
"Yes. And you're Hugo," Richard says impatiently.
"Right." Hurley scratches at the back of his head. "Can I come in?"
Richard is reluctant, but he steps aside. Jacob follows Hurley inside. His eyes immediately find the small bed in the corner - sheets in a rumpled pile near the footboard. He looks to Richard and finds the dark circles under his eyes complement the look.
"So," Hurley says, "You know I can talk to dead people, right?"
Jacob smiles at the bluntness and though Richard looks wary, he knows he will appreciate it in the long run.
"Yes," Richard says, drawing out the word. His eyebrow furrows briefly. "What is this about, Hugo?"
"Jacob wanted me to pass along a message." Hurley turns away from Richard and focuses on the books resting on the shelf beside him.
Richard is not confused, nor surprised even. The hope he felt as soon as Hurley appeared at his door finally allows itself to be shown. "Okay."
"He talked about how whenever bad things happen, people always find a way to blame themselves. And that hindsight is always 20/20, but that most of us do our best with what we had to go on at the time. And there's no need for forgiveness if that's the case." He looks up finally, meeting Richard's eyes. "You don't need it."
It doesn't matter what it refers to - the falling out, the shortsightedness, his death, all of the above. Something inside Richard snaps and a rush of feeling pours over his entire body. He opens his mouth to try and respond, but the words will not escape and he stands there speechless, looking for a way to bridge the gap.
Jacob closes his eyes and presses his forehead against Richard's shoulder even though Richard cannot feel him there.
"Don't worry, Richard," Hurley smiles, somewhat awkwardly. "He knows."
---
The first night he was immortal Richard stared at his hands. He thought so loudly that Jacob was sure he had a headache.
"It won't always feel like this, will it?" Richard asked.
"I'm not sure," Jacob said.
He didn't know what they were referring to anymore.
---
That night Richard sleeps soundly.
Jacob finds he can finally rest too.
Character(s)/Pairing(s): jacob/richard + hurley
Word Count/Rating: 2,039, pg
Summary: with every give, there is a take. spoilers for 6x01/02 and maybe speculation for down the road.
A/N: Written for the sacred_20 prompt, priest.
There is a moment, briefly, before he dies where he remembers what it was like before.
He used to watch Richard sleep - watch him inhale and exhale and wonder over the complexities of being human. Count the breaths as tally marks to an inevitable death. He waited twenty years to make Richard immortal. Each night was like a nail in his own coffin. But he waited for Richard to ask, for it to be less selfish - or maybe just a more acceptable brand of selfish.
Richard doesn't sleep soundly after his mortality is taken away. Jacob watches him toss and turn - trying to get back to that peaceful bliss.
He never forgets he was the one who took it away.
With every give, there is a take.
---
This was their usual dance - Esau would destroy and Jacob would try not blink. He had tried so many times before to save them, only to have it fail. A tiny victory for Esau, a crushing defeat for Jacob. It hurt too much to try.
Something changed when he saw Richard. He was chained to the hull, minutes from drowning or seconds from being consumed by smoke - whichever death chose first. There were others in his situation, others who screamed - begged and pleaded for their lives, called to their deities. But Richard seemed so calm, so ready. He did not fear death.
It was - still is - that rare brand of irony.
---
They have a falling out.
Jacob cannot remember over what. Richard still serves him because it's all he knows - all he can remember. But they go years without seeing each other. Richard takes orders from a faceless monster because he's too angry to know any better.
Jacob dies knowing that Richard will blame himself for this.
He dies knowing that he'll be both right and wrong at the same time.
---
Jacob waded through water, stepped over dead bodies and found Richard barely conscious. He broke the chains in one knock as if they were made of tissue, and then cradled the body, an arm beneath his knees and around his shoulders. He brought Richard from the dark, damp hull into the filtered sunlight of the island shore.
Richard shied away from the light, turning into Jacob's body as he did so. He glanced up briefly at Jacob, but long enough apparently to make an appraisal.
"I didn't ask to be saved," Richard murmured before his eyes drifted shut again on their own accord.
Jacob eyed the dead weight in his arms curiously.
---
It's the worst feeling in the world.
Watching Richard pace the four corners of his room as he counts all his missteps from the past thirty years. He berates himself silently and loses every angle of the aloof facade he had perfected so well.
And Jacob can do nothing but watch as Richard's world slips through his fingers and all that's left is that same broken man who didn't believe he could be saved.
---
While Richard was recovering, Jacob hovered. It had been a long time since he took care of anyone, and never really like he was then. Richard healed quick enough, but the toll it took on his body left him wandering in and out of sleep for ten days. Jacob, who was used to years blinking by, never realized how long a week and a half could drag.
Whenever Richard was awake, he didn't speak. Jacob already kept his questions to a minimum and most could be answered with a tilt or shake of a head so it was hard to notice.
The silence seemed to press more heavily on Richard than Jacob. As he gained strength and his hours awake grew, he spent more time watching Jacob. His eyes were filled with distrust - fear. He was always on alert, which wore on his already weakened body. Jacob didn't understand it. People usually took a liking to him, as if optimism was both something they could sense and contagious.
But then, this all had started because Richard wasn't like most people.
---
Sometimes, Richard would rub at the center of his forehead or pinch the bridge of his nose. He'd chew the left side of his lip or scratch at his jaw with his thumb. He'd breath into his folded hands or close his eyes and count to some indiscernible number in his head.
Sometimes, he'd murmur prayers in Latin to a God he knew long before Jacob.
Richard would never admit it to Jacob, but sometimes he was as tired as he looked.
---
It took ten days for Richard to get better and fourteen days for him to break the mundane silence.
They drank hot water as the sun began to peak over the horizon. Even sick, Richard was an early riser. He propped himself against the base of Taweret and watched the tide.
"The morning skies are always red," Richard whispered, his voice hoarse.
Jacob was vaguely aware of the saying he was referring to. Richard wasn't the first man to arrive by boat.
"This island doesn't like companions," Jacob replied, attempting to sound casual, but meaning it as a warning against Esau. Richard seemed to take it as a metaphor for something entirely else.
"I didn't ask you to save me," he said, eyes narrowed.
Jacob realized it was the second time Richard had said it and that both times Richard had sounded uncomfortable with the very notion - as if it were a debt he'd rather not pay. Jacob wished he didn't understand. The idea that someone could feel that unworthy of being healed made his heart clench.
They were sitting side by side and so it was easy for Jacob to reach out and place a hand over Richard's as he spoke. "You never need to ask."
Richard stared at the hand gently coating his. For a second, the worries in his eyes were gone.
---
Jacob finds Hurley alone, gathering supplies. His people have fractured - some staying within the safe haven of the temple and others attempting to rebuild the camp they once called home. Hurley chooses the temple, but it doesn't stop him from helping his friends who choose differently.
Hurley has reluctantly embraced his ability to converse with the dead, so he does little more than flinch when Jacob approaches him.
"It worked," Hurley says.
Jacob smiles somewhat bitterly. The first favor he asked of Hurley seems to have come a lifetime ago.
"I know," Jacob says. He takes a seat on one of the logs in line to be split for firewood and folds his hands in his lap, mirroring the image of contemplation. "Hugo, I have another favor to ask of you."
"Is this one gonna end with someone drowning my friend or a bunch of guns pointed at my head? Because I'm really not up for it, man."
"No. It's nothing like that." Jacob pauses. He considers leaving it there, but it goes against his very nature. "But it's important that you know, Hugo, that you have a choice-"
"Yeah, yeah. I got it by now." Hurley smiles. "What do you need?"
---
Most of their time spent together was at night. It was the only time Richard could sneak away from his people without suspicion. Some leaders were more suspicious than others. Ellie, for instance, knew something was going on, but knowing her own complicated situation with Charles, she kept quiet.
"They vanished, Jacob," Richard said. He was sitting down beside Jacob, arm pressed comfortably against Jacob's side. Richard appeared to be relaxed, but his eyes were narrowed, and Jacob could see his mind was still restless.
"Stranger things have happened," Jacob offered, and maybe it was true, but more likely it was just an empty promise.
Richard finally took his eyes off the tapestry lined wall across from them and turned to look at Jacob. He considered his companion carefully. "Do you think I should check out John Locke's story?"
Jacob frowned. "If it will make you feel better."
If it was possible, Richard looked even more worried. "Is there something you're not telling me?"
Jacob did not sigh, though he was aware it would convey the proper exasperation at the question. "Contrary to popular believe, I am not omniscient."
Richard was still staring, eyes trained to spot any tell in Jacob's face. Jacob knew if Richard looked too long he could see too much. So he leaned forward and pressed his lips against Richard's. Richard was reluctant to respond, as if part of him knew what was going on. Jacob was a patient man, and soon enough, a gentle sigh had escaped Richard's lips as he gave in.
When they separated, Richard could not find the strength to open his eyes. Jacob kissed his forehead, wishing his gift for healing could extend to the troubles of the mind.
"Rest," Jacob demanded, and Richard kept his eyes closed, tucking his head against the curve of Jacob's neck.
Jacob was aware that by coaxing Richard into a submission, he had only temporarily avoided the truth. There were things Richard should know.
They were things Jacob didn't have the heart to tell him.
---
Jacob can tell that Hurley is seriously regretting saying yes to his request. He stands outside Richard's room for five minutes, hand raised but afraid to knock.
"Hugo," Jacob says softly when he's sure Hurley needs a little push.
Hurley's eyes snapped back towards him. "Have you ever seen the movie Ghost?" Hurley asks, but before Jacob can tell him no, he shakes his head. "Never mind."
He knocks twice. The sound ricochets strangely in the tunneled hallway. Richard's room is buried deep underground in the lowest levels of the temple.
Richard does not hide his surprise to see Hurley when he opens the door. "Can I help you?"
"Uh yeah," Hurley's eyes flicker to Jacob's before returning to Richard. "You're Richard, right?"
"Yes. And you're Hugo," Richard says impatiently.
"Right." Hurley scratches at the back of his head. "Can I come in?"
Richard is reluctant, but he steps aside. Jacob follows Hurley inside. His eyes immediately find the small bed in the corner - sheets in a rumpled pile near the footboard. He looks to Richard and finds the dark circles under his eyes complement the look.
"So," Hurley says, "You know I can talk to dead people, right?"
Jacob smiles at the bluntness and though Richard looks wary, he knows he will appreciate it in the long run.
"Yes," Richard says, drawing out the word. His eyebrow furrows briefly. "What is this about, Hugo?"
"Jacob wanted me to pass along a message." Hurley turns away from Richard and focuses on the books resting on the shelf beside him.
Richard is not confused, nor surprised even. The hope he felt as soon as Hurley appeared at his door finally allows itself to be shown. "Okay."
"He talked about how whenever bad things happen, people always find a way to blame themselves. And that hindsight is always 20/20, but that most of us do our best with what we had to go on at the time. And there's no need for forgiveness if that's the case." He looks up finally, meeting Richard's eyes. "You don't need it."
It doesn't matter what it refers to - the falling out, the shortsightedness, his death, all of the above. Something inside Richard snaps and a rush of feeling pours over his entire body. He opens his mouth to try and respond, but the words will not escape and he stands there speechless, looking for a way to bridge the gap.
Jacob closes his eyes and presses his forehead against Richard's shoulder even though Richard cannot feel him there.
"Don't worry, Richard," Hurley smiles, somewhat awkwardly. "He knows."
---
The first night he was immortal Richard stared at his hands. He thought so loudly that Jacob was sure he had a headache.
"It won't always feel like this, will it?" Richard asked.
"I'm not sure," Jacob said.
He didn't know what they were referring to anymore.
---
That night Richard sleeps soundly.
Jacob finds he can finally rest too.