lost fic: exodus (eloise, richard, charles, daniel)
Title: Exodus
Character(s)/Pairing(s): eloise, richard, daniel, charles (richard/eloise, charles/eloise)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,565
Summary: this island doesn't just know secrets. it keeps them too.
A/N: For lostsquee's fic remix. This is based off of valhalla37's fic Genesis, which literally blew me away when I read it. Her perspective on Jacob was fantastic. During the Daniel scenes there seemed to be this thing (for lack of a better word) between Richard and Eloise that Jacob was not aware of, but that the reader picked up on (at least this reader did). So I decided to shift the perspective from Jacob to Richard, Eloise and a bit of Charles and run with it.
give my regards to soul and romance
they always did the best they could
human | the killers
Daniel is five when he runs away from home.
Richard finds him sitting near the treaty line, curled up under a tree, watching the swings of a deserted children's playground wobble in the breeze. He stares with envy at the open space, the submarine in the distance loading members of the ever shrinking Dharma Initiative.
"You shouldn't run off," Richard warns, but Daniel is not really listening.
He looks up at Richard with wilted eyes. He looks as though he's the one who lived over a hundred years. "I don't like it here."
Richard frowns. "I know you're smarter than most of the kids back at the camp. We can get you books, you know? And games. Whatever you want."
Five year olds should not look so defeated. it will only get worse - Richard's conscience speaks with Jacob's voice, but he always pictures their Enemy mouthing the words.
Daniel sighs, turning back to the desolate sight before him. "I still won't like it here."
Richard cannot blame him.
"He was going to shoot you." Eloise is aware that repeating the same process and expecting different results breeds madness, but they still have this conversation over and over. Every anniversary.
"I know," Richard says, his hand clutching hers as they sit watching Charles teach Daniel the angles of the trees - how to excel at hunting.
"If had been anyone else, I would have let it take its course."
Richard refuses to acknowledge it. He has accepted the burden of death before, but he will not carry this one on his shoulders. The guilt would destroy him from the inside. So he ignores it.
Daniel's gun drags across the ground. He ignores Charles' teachings and instead stares at the object twice his size like it's a foreign body attached to his hip, like he wishes it was anywhere but there.
"He's not a killer," Eloise whispers.
Richard's response is automatic. "Neither are you."
This island doesn't just know secrets. It keeps them too. From everyone. It's the only truth that Eloise can still hold on to.
There are some corners of the island that go un-tread where Eloise can take what she wants and not what is demanded of her - where Richard complies because he only knows traces of what 'want' is and it's only with her.
No one sees it because no one is looking. It's not a calculated move. There is no foresight to it, no endgame. That's all anyone cares about here.
Eloise calls Daniel 'their son' no matter who she is speaking to as if he's a gift to the island, to the Others. Charles doesn't care enough to worry and Jacob is pleased, but Richard knows the words are mostly meant for him.
Jacob blind sights them.
The plan - for the record - was to leave. To pick up when no one expected and just start fresh and hope it would be enough. Eloise doesn't know why she expected this to be different, why her son would be saved when Jacob always took what he wanted.
Jacob has the nerve to tell her that it was her choices that brought them to this point, her finger that pulled the trigger. He says it so casually that Eloise can only stare blankly at the features that masquerade themselves as human.
The worst part is she expects this of Jacob. He plays games. She does not expect Richard to be the one to lead them into the fire. Richard, who stands idly by as Jacob sinks his claws into another victim, another sacrifice. Richard who is silenced by shame.
Richard watches now - their son fast asleep in his mother's lap, her arms wrapped around him tight and her tears making tracks down her cheeks to the crown of his head. She runs her fingers through his hair as if she's unconsciously trying to rub away Jacob's cursed touch.
I'm sorry. Richard doesn't say it, but it shows itself on every corner of his face.
Eloise cannot look him in the eye.
This shame is so much worse.
"We can fix this." Charles' voice is firm, but his hand shakes against her shoulder. He keeps repeating this mantra, like a clutch on his sanity.
She knows him too well.
Late at night, Charles will whisper against her clavicle about his plans to one day possess this island and burn it to the ground for taking their son. He falls asleep with his fist clenched in the fabric of her shirt.
Ellie does not dwell on the fact that Charles has already accepted defeat.
There's nothing to be fixed.
Here's something that should be known.
When Richard found her, she was wearing down rosary beads in an Irish convent. She was sixteen and trying to escape the horrors of her childhood. Richard had a gentle touch and even warmer smile and it was so unlike everything she expected from men.
Jacob met her at seventeen, held her hands in his and promised her a destiny. And the thing about Ellie is even when she was broken and scarred she wanted more from life than the intangibles of faith.
She was sure meeting Richard was the best moment of her life. A turning point. Something great.
Now she watches her son sleep. A child whom she shot at point blank range without hesitation.
She realizes now this was no rebirth.
"You don't have to go." When Richard says it, it's like a last minute prayer offered up to whatever deity is listening, full of passion but empty in meaning.
Charles stands silent, motionless, watching the scene unfold with his usual air of morbid curiosity. Here they are, three of them, braided together like threads of silk, messy and complicated - symbiotic too. Today Eloise doesn't listen to either of them. He's used to it. Richard isn't.
"He'll just come back," Richard adds, and Charles strangles whatever retort he had in the back of his throat when he sees Eloise pause, hands frozen on the shirt she is stuffing in Daniel's bag.
Eloise evens a look so harsh at Richard that it leaves him empty, and so he goes, wordless, leaving her with Charles who studies her as if she is still a novel concept after all these years.
He's not sure if he loves her the way Richard does. It sounds silly, but he believes that what they have is different, stretches further and wider and will last longer, which is painfully ironic. It's why he can bare to watch her leave. Why he doesn't care that she and Richard are and have always been a fact.
"If you must," Charles finally says and then after a moment's debate adds, "I'll come find you when I leave."
"You'll never leave this place," Eloise says. Maybe he wants to protest idly, but she shakes her head before he can even attempt it, reaching for him without much thought. Her fingers ghost over his hand, and he turns his palm into hers.
Charles smile is broad and bittersweet. "Not by choice."
She squeezes his hand in understanding - there's not much of that left here.
Later after Eloise has finished packing and Daniel is fast asleep, Richard's leaning against the tent opening, his head ducked down like he can't bear the sight.
She wants to tell him she forgives him - for this, for everything.
The words disappear in her mouth; fall back down her throat, buried in her gut. She attempts to uncover them again before he leaves, but it proves impossible. It's so much easier to pretend that this silent impasse is enough to last a lifetime.
"You should go," she says instead, arms crossed over her chest, creating boundaries because he has no sense of space when she gets like this - full of empty defiance. It should send a message.
He inches closer instead, presses his lips against her forehead and lets her elbows dig into his chest as he does. She swears she does not commit the feel of his lips to memory or tremble at the brush of his fingers as they stroke her cheek knowing it will be the last time. He cannot speak to it either.
The truth is - the words die because they've all lost their use.
Eloise leaves in the morning - sunrise giving the boardwalk pink and purple glow. She can still feel their eyes on her as the island shrinks away. Their boat creaks and hisses, refuses to give Eloise the comfort of silence as she watches the only home she's ever known vanish and with it, the love and power and peace that it pretended to give her.
"What about daddy?" Daniel whispers, and Eloise isn't sure if he's aware he said it aloud.
Eloise thinks of Richard, of Charles, of Jacob. Thinks of her son, head and shoulders above the rest of them. "You'll see him again someday."
"Promise?"
i hope not. She nods instead, a hand gently placed upon her son's shoulders and watches as the island disappears from view for good.
Daniel is six when he runs away from home.
This time, Eloise is with him to make sure he forgets the way back, unaware (or maybe fully cognizant) that she is the one who seals his fate.
Character(s)/Pairing(s): eloise, richard, daniel, charles (richard/eloise, charles/eloise)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,565
Summary: this island doesn't just know secrets. it keeps them too.
A/N: For lostsquee's fic remix. This is based off of valhalla37's fic Genesis, which literally blew me away when I read it. Her perspective on Jacob was fantastic. During the Daniel scenes there seemed to be this thing (for lack of a better word) between Richard and Eloise that Jacob was not aware of, but that the reader picked up on (at least this reader did). So I decided to shift the perspective from Jacob to Richard, Eloise and a bit of Charles and run with it.
give my regards to soul and romance
they always did the best they could
human | the killers
Daniel is five when he runs away from home.
Richard finds him sitting near the treaty line, curled up under a tree, watching the swings of a deserted children's playground wobble in the breeze. He stares with envy at the open space, the submarine in the distance loading members of the ever shrinking Dharma Initiative.
"You shouldn't run off," Richard warns, but Daniel is not really listening.
He looks up at Richard with wilted eyes. He looks as though he's the one who lived over a hundred years. "I don't like it here."
Richard frowns. "I know you're smarter than most of the kids back at the camp. We can get you books, you know? And games. Whatever you want."
Five year olds should not look so defeated. it will only get worse - Richard's conscience speaks with Jacob's voice, but he always pictures their Enemy mouthing the words.
Daniel sighs, turning back to the desolate sight before him. "I still won't like it here."
Richard cannot blame him.
"He was going to shoot you." Eloise is aware that repeating the same process and expecting different results breeds madness, but they still have this conversation over and over. Every anniversary.
"I know," Richard says, his hand clutching hers as they sit watching Charles teach Daniel the angles of the trees - how to excel at hunting.
"If had been anyone else, I would have let it take its course."
Richard refuses to acknowledge it. He has accepted the burden of death before, but he will not carry this one on his shoulders. The guilt would destroy him from the inside. So he ignores it.
Daniel's gun drags across the ground. He ignores Charles' teachings and instead stares at the object twice his size like it's a foreign body attached to his hip, like he wishes it was anywhere but there.
"He's not a killer," Eloise whispers.
Richard's response is automatic. "Neither are you."
This island doesn't just know secrets. It keeps them too. From everyone. It's the only truth that Eloise can still hold on to.
There are some corners of the island that go un-tread where Eloise can take what she wants and not what is demanded of her - where Richard complies because he only knows traces of what 'want' is and it's only with her.
No one sees it because no one is looking. It's not a calculated move. There is no foresight to it, no endgame. That's all anyone cares about here.
Eloise calls Daniel 'their son' no matter who she is speaking to as if he's a gift to the island, to the Others. Charles doesn't care enough to worry and Jacob is pleased, but Richard knows the words are mostly meant for him.
Jacob blind sights them.
The plan - for the record - was to leave. To pick up when no one expected and just start fresh and hope it would be enough. Eloise doesn't know why she expected this to be different, why her son would be saved when Jacob always took what he wanted.
Jacob has the nerve to tell her that it was her choices that brought them to this point, her finger that pulled the trigger. He says it so casually that Eloise can only stare blankly at the features that masquerade themselves as human.
The worst part is she expects this of Jacob. He plays games. She does not expect Richard to be the one to lead them into the fire. Richard, who stands idly by as Jacob sinks his claws into another victim, another sacrifice. Richard who is silenced by shame.
Richard watches now - their son fast asleep in his mother's lap, her arms wrapped around him tight and her tears making tracks down her cheeks to the crown of his head. She runs her fingers through his hair as if she's unconsciously trying to rub away Jacob's cursed touch.
I'm sorry. Richard doesn't say it, but it shows itself on every corner of his face.
Eloise cannot look him in the eye.
This shame is so much worse.
"We can fix this." Charles' voice is firm, but his hand shakes against her shoulder. He keeps repeating this mantra, like a clutch on his sanity.
She knows him too well.
Late at night, Charles will whisper against her clavicle about his plans to one day possess this island and burn it to the ground for taking their son. He falls asleep with his fist clenched in the fabric of her shirt.
Ellie does not dwell on the fact that Charles has already accepted defeat.
There's nothing to be fixed.
Here's something that should be known.
When Richard found her, she was wearing down rosary beads in an Irish convent. She was sixteen and trying to escape the horrors of her childhood. Richard had a gentle touch and even warmer smile and it was so unlike everything she expected from men.
Jacob met her at seventeen, held her hands in his and promised her a destiny. And the thing about Ellie is even when she was broken and scarred she wanted more from life than the intangibles of faith.
She was sure meeting Richard was the best moment of her life. A turning point. Something great.
Now she watches her son sleep. A child whom she shot at point blank range without hesitation.
She realizes now this was no rebirth.
"You don't have to go." When Richard says it, it's like a last minute prayer offered up to whatever deity is listening, full of passion but empty in meaning.
Charles stands silent, motionless, watching the scene unfold with his usual air of morbid curiosity. Here they are, three of them, braided together like threads of silk, messy and complicated - symbiotic too. Today Eloise doesn't listen to either of them. He's used to it. Richard isn't.
"He'll just come back," Richard adds, and Charles strangles whatever retort he had in the back of his throat when he sees Eloise pause, hands frozen on the shirt she is stuffing in Daniel's bag.
Eloise evens a look so harsh at Richard that it leaves him empty, and so he goes, wordless, leaving her with Charles who studies her as if she is still a novel concept after all these years.
He's not sure if he loves her the way Richard does. It sounds silly, but he believes that what they have is different, stretches further and wider and will last longer, which is painfully ironic. It's why he can bare to watch her leave. Why he doesn't care that she and Richard are and have always been a fact.
"If you must," Charles finally says and then after a moment's debate adds, "I'll come find you when I leave."
"You'll never leave this place," Eloise says. Maybe he wants to protest idly, but she shakes her head before he can even attempt it, reaching for him without much thought. Her fingers ghost over his hand, and he turns his palm into hers.
Charles smile is broad and bittersweet. "Not by choice."
She squeezes his hand in understanding - there's not much of that left here.
Later after Eloise has finished packing and Daniel is fast asleep, Richard's leaning against the tent opening, his head ducked down like he can't bear the sight.
She wants to tell him she forgives him - for this, for everything.
The words disappear in her mouth; fall back down her throat, buried in her gut. She attempts to uncover them again before he leaves, but it proves impossible. It's so much easier to pretend that this silent impasse is enough to last a lifetime.
"You should go," she says instead, arms crossed over her chest, creating boundaries because he has no sense of space when she gets like this - full of empty defiance. It should send a message.
He inches closer instead, presses his lips against her forehead and lets her elbows dig into his chest as he does. She swears she does not commit the feel of his lips to memory or tremble at the brush of his fingers as they stroke her cheek knowing it will be the last time. He cannot speak to it either.
The truth is - the words die because they've all lost their use.
Eloise leaves in the morning - sunrise giving the boardwalk pink and purple glow. She can still feel their eyes on her as the island shrinks away. Their boat creaks and hisses, refuses to give Eloise the comfort of silence as she watches the only home she's ever known vanish and with it, the love and power and peace that it pretended to give her.
"What about daddy?" Daniel whispers, and Eloise isn't sure if he's aware he said it aloud.
Eloise thinks of Richard, of Charles, of Jacob. Thinks of her son, head and shoulders above the rest of them. "You'll see him again someday."
"Promise?"
i hope not. She nods instead, a hand gently placed upon her son's shoulders and watches as the island disappears from view for good.
Daniel is six when he runs away from home.
This time, Eloise is with him to make sure he forgets the way back, unaware (or maybe fully cognizant) that she is the one who seals his fate.