Fic - Song of a Fallen Soldier (Alex/Goodwin)
Title: Song of a Fallen Soldier
Rating: PG
Pairing: Alex/Goodwin
Warnings: Spoilers through Season 2, angst.
Written for cult_ships Challenge #24 - The Others
When she was twelve, Ethan led her into the jungle, shaking her from sleep long before light filled the sky. For hours they walked as heat smothered any breeze and long hair escaped to stick wetly to her face. She’d been taught to track in lesson after lesson, taught to read by campfires at night. She’d learned that silence was easy but her words were seldom right. She knew questioning orders sometimes led to bloodshed, but that obedience was always required.
She knew she wasn’t one of them.
Relentlessly, Ethan pushed on through the weeds as Alex struggled after, her arms scratched by the branches that whipped sharply in his path. When he stopped abruptly to remove some water, she noticed for the first time the gun concealed beneath his shirt. His eyes narrowed as he followed her gaze, and he watched her greedily while he tipped his canteen.
“We’re going hunting, Alex. That’s why I have the gun.” He answered her unspoken question with a humorless smirk and a tone that chilled her spine. Recapping the canteen, he moved on without offering her a drink.
She already knew how to shoot. She’d been taught not to fear the guns, kept so carefully guarded at their camp. That they were a source of protection, and of strength. From limited practice, she knew she could hit a target at quite a distance, probably shoot better than most of the men. She didn’t need a lesson in hunting, and the gun didn’t scare her. She knew that wasn’t why they were there.
Precious bullets were not to be wasted on food. For that, they had traps.
Bullets were for others.
“You should keep up, Alex. We’re almost there.” His eyes trailed her from top to bottom before he turned, leaving her cold in the heat of the sun. With sudden understanding, dread entered her mind.
Again they proceeded, her mouth cotton-dry and head throbbing as they moved - always so fast - deeper into the trees. “You will be silent until we arrive.” She’d been silent since they’d set out. “Take the gun now. You’ll use it soon.”
Shaking wet fingers accepted the metal, cold against her skin. Automatically, she checked to see that it was loaded, just as she’d been taught, but the pieces felt strangely awkward in her small hands.
“You’re a soldier and you’ll hunt. That’s all you are doing. Remember that.” Soldiers didn’t question orders. That was what she was, what she’d always been. A mercenary caught in a war she would never understand.
He moved slower now, more careful not to make a sound, and her heart throbbed in her chest while blood rushed in her ears. When Ethan stopped, he pulled her close beside him, hand lingering on her arm longer than it should. She shivered and tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened, pinching her skin.
He pulled her down to peer through the brush, motioning for her to ready the gun. Through the leaves, she watched, barely daring to breathe, until movement caught her eye. Ethan’s hand on her arm clenched even tighter and her head began to swim. Blinking sweat from her eyes, she focused again on the figure before them.
It was a woman.
Alex jerked in surprise and had it not been for Ethan’s grip on her arm, she would have run. She’d been taught to run from the others on the island, taught to fear and hate them. Taught that others would take her from her home, away from the good people into the unknown. That she, especially, should be careful, that she was endangered, prized above all the rest. It always made sense, in a way. She knew she wasn’t one of them.
Pulling her close, Ethan pressed his lips to her ear. “Kill her,” he hissed, so that only she would hear. His breath was hot, wet, and she felt her skin crawl. “Do it,” he ordered.
Unaware of their presence, the woman continued to slink through the jungle before them, pausing every few feet to examine tracks in the mud. She moved with ease through the brush, effortless despite the heat and the long, graying hair that clung to her skin. She hummed, half-singing softly in a language Alex didn’t know, her haunted eyes focused on the ground.
Still undetected, Alex watched, listening to the woman’s song, letting its melody fill her ears. They didn’t sing at the camp, but the woman’s unfamiliar voice brought her peace. She wasn’t young, this woman, and the lines on her face were etched in sorrow. Mesmerized by the longing sound, familiar somehow, Alex jumped when Ethan spoke again. “Do it now.”
Raising the gun, she drew in a shaky breath and licked her lips with a swollen tongue. Soldiers followed orders, and obedience was required. She aimed at the woman’s chest and closed her eyes while the sounds of the jungle and the song swirled into one and she pulled the trigger.
* * * * *
The movement was so sudden, she was never sure just how it happened. Ethan’s grip on her arm was released, and the gun fell to the ground with a shocking snap. Losing her balance, Alex fell forward as the gun tumbled from her hands. She scrambled to her knees in time to see the woman run away, unharmed. She melted into the trees, the song withering to silence behind her.
Whirling, Alex saw that Ethan was on the ground as well, blood trickling from his lip. Standing above him was Goodwin, breathing hard and rubbing his hand. Taking Ethan by the arm, he pulled him up, away from Alex, leaving her breathless in the grass. She watched as the two moved away, her head spinning with fear.
Once more she turned to search for the woman, but she had vanished as quickly as she’d come, and the sounds of the jungle overtook her ears.
When Goodwin returned, he was alone. With an easy smile, he opened his canteen and offered her a drink. As cool water slid down her throat, her heart calmed and he crouched beside her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded mutely, wondering how long he’d followed them and why he’d chosen to so suddenly appear. Picking up the fallen gun and placing it in his belt, he squinted at the sky. “It’ll be dark soon. We should head back.”
“Why did you stop us?”
Goodwin’s eyes briefly darkened at the question, and he picked a blade of grass. “Ethan was wrong to bring you out here. He was wrong to make you do this.”
“Who was she?”
His lips tightened, but his eyes didn’t smile. “She’s one of them.”
Alex shook her head in confusion. “Who?”
He looked to the distance, where the light grew dim. “Ethan was afraid she would have taken you back.”
“Back where?”
Goodwin didn’t answer, suddenly avoiding her eyes.
“Why would she want to take me?”
At the question, he startled, searching for a way not to answer. “We won’t let her take you. But she didn’t need to die. Not this way. Not by you.” Standing, he offered her a hand, but no further words.
She knew she should be scared, angry even, at what he did. But as they returned to camp she found herself at peace, grateful for his interruption. Grateful for the betrayal of a fellow soldier. Goodwin walked slowly, and the sun began to fall.
“What are you singing?” His voice broke her thoughts minutes later.
“What?” Her mind had drifted, and she forced herself to focus.
“You were singing something. I’ve never heard it before.” He turned to her and smiled. “I just wondered what it was.”
“It was...” She hadn’t realized she was humming the woman’s song, that it stayed with her, its melody ringing in her ears. “Just something I heard.”
Again, he turned to grin, eyes crinkling happily. “I like it. Nobody sings around the camp.”
Alex was silent and Goodwin stopped walking, then turned to look her in the eye. The grin disappeared and something changed, a secret broke with a half-truth spoken.
“But you’re not like the rest...are you, Alex?” When he fixed his eyes on her, she felt her breath catch, surprised he knew her secret. “You already know that. You always have. That’s why I couldn’t let you kill her. Because you’re not like the rest.”
She always knew she wasn’t one of them, but Goodwin never told her why.
She continued humming softly, falling into silence as they reached the camp.
* * * * *
She was the one who found him, days after it happened. The stench and buzz of the flies drew her near. Heavy, leaden feed stumbled as she pushed herself forward, already knowing what lay in her path. Her head swam and her skin went cold when she saw that he was dead.
Reeling backward, she stifled a sob, collapsing into the grass. There she remained until the sun sank from the sky and she could cry no more.
* * * * *
Ethan found her hours later. Seizing her arm, he pulled her roughly to her feet and looked with disgust at her reddened eyes. “We need to move.”
Defiantly pulling away, she shook him off and stared numbly at the ground. A melody began to form in her mind, seeping in and filling the hole left by her grief.
“Now, Alex.” Again, she turned away from his harsh command.
Softly, she began to hum, eyes closed, body rocking gently with the rhythm. Goodwin loved her song, the only one she knew, the one the woman sang. Her voice gained strength and her tongue formed the sounds she understood, her heart finding meaning in the words she did not.
She sang for him until Ethan’s sudden slap shocked her into silence.
Her cheek stung and her hand went to cover the rising welt.
“We need to go,” Ethan repeated. “He was a good soldier and now he’s dead. There’s work to be done.”
As she watched him walk away, Alex’s eyes darkened and a heated strength rose in her chest. She followed him back at a distance, head held high and anger burning in her heart.
* * * * *
The others prepared the room, sterilized the instruments and cleaned the tools. She’d been left to care for the girl, to ready her for the procedure. They would try to take the child, try to make it one of them, a warrior for the cause. Alex had been left to play the part of the good soldier just a little while longer. They trusted her to obey, just as she once trusted them.
But she wasn’t a soldier anymore.
* * * * *
As she ushers the pregnant girl away, releasing her into the jungle, Alex thinks she hears Goodwin’s song whispering through the trees. She thinks she hears the woman’s voice, just as it was on that day. She pushes the girl toward the phantom sound, quietly resolved in her betrayal. Longing and sad, the melody brings her peace. It brings her strength, though surely it’s just the wind.
Soon she’ll follow that song, leave the others behind.
She always knew she wasn’t one of them.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Alex/Goodwin
Warnings: Spoilers through Season 2, angst.
Written for cult_ships Challenge #24 - The Others
When she was twelve, Ethan led her into the jungle, shaking her from sleep long before light filled the sky. For hours they walked as heat smothered any breeze and long hair escaped to stick wetly to her face. She’d been taught to track in lesson after lesson, taught to read by campfires at night. She’d learned that silence was easy but her words were seldom right. She knew questioning orders sometimes led to bloodshed, but that obedience was always required.
She knew she wasn’t one of them.
Relentlessly, Ethan pushed on through the weeds as Alex struggled after, her arms scratched by the branches that whipped sharply in his path. When he stopped abruptly to remove some water, she noticed for the first time the gun concealed beneath his shirt. His eyes narrowed as he followed her gaze, and he watched her greedily while he tipped his canteen.
“We’re going hunting, Alex. That’s why I have the gun.” He answered her unspoken question with a humorless smirk and a tone that chilled her spine. Recapping the canteen, he moved on without offering her a drink.
She already knew how to shoot. She’d been taught not to fear the guns, kept so carefully guarded at their camp. That they were a source of protection, and of strength. From limited practice, she knew she could hit a target at quite a distance, probably shoot better than most of the men. She didn’t need a lesson in hunting, and the gun didn’t scare her. She knew that wasn’t why they were there.
Precious bullets were not to be wasted on food. For that, they had traps.
Bullets were for others.
“You should keep up, Alex. We’re almost there.” His eyes trailed her from top to bottom before he turned, leaving her cold in the heat of the sun. With sudden understanding, dread entered her mind.
Again they proceeded, her mouth cotton-dry and head throbbing as they moved - always so fast - deeper into the trees. “You will be silent until we arrive.” She’d been silent since they’d set out. “Take the gun now. You’ll use it soon.”
Shaking wet fingers accepted the metal, cold against her skin. Automatically, she checked to see that it was loaded, just as she’d been taught, but the pieces felt strangely awkward in her small hands.
“You’re a soldier and you’ll hunt. That’s all you are doing. Remember that.” Soldiers didn’t question orders. That was what she was, what she’d always been. A mercenary caught in a war she would never understand.
He moved slower now, more careful not to make a sound, and her heart throbbed in her chest while blood rushed in her ears. When Ethan stopped, he pulled her close beside him, hand lingering on her arm longer than it should. She shivered and tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened, pinching her skin.
He pulled her down to peer through the brush, motioning for her to ready the gun. Through the leaves, she watched, barely daring to breathe, until movement caught her eye. Ethan’s hand on her arm clenched even tighter and her head began to swim. Blinking sweat from her eyes, she focused again on the figure before them.
It was a woman.
Alex jerked in surprise and had it not been for Ethan’s grip on her arm, she would have run. She’d been taught to run from the others on the island, taught to fear and hate them. Taught that others would take her from her home, away from the good people into the unknown. That she, especially, should be careful, that she was endangered, prized above all the rest. It always made sense, in a way. She knew she wasn’t one of them.
Pulling her close, Ethan pressed his lips to her ear. “Kill her,” he hissed, so that only she would hear. His breath was hot, wet, and she felt her skin crawl. “Do it,” he ordered.
Unaware of their presence, the woman continued to slink through the jungle before them, pausing every few feet to examine tracks in the mud. She moved with ease through the brush, effortless despite the heat and the long, graying hair that clung to her skin. She hummed, half-singing softly in a language Alex didn’t know, her haunted eyes focused on the ground.
Still undetected, Alex watched, listening to the woman’s song, letting its melody fill her ears. They didn’t sing at the camp, but the woman’s unfamiliar voice brought her peace. She wasn’t young, this woman, and the lines on her face were etched in sorrow. Mesmerized by the longing sound, familiar somehow, Alex jumped when Ethan spoke again. “Do it now.”
Raising the gun, she drew in a shaky breath and licked her lips with a swollen tongue. Soldiers followed orders, and obedience was required. She aimed at the woman’s chest and closed her eyes while the sounds of the jungle and the song swirled into one and she pulled the trigger.
* * * * *
The movement was so sudden, she was never sure just how it happened. Ethan’s grip on her arm was released, and the gun fell to the ground with a shocking snap. Losing her balance, Alex fell forward as the gun tumbled from her hands. She scrambled to her knees in time to see the woman run away, unharmed. She melted into the trees, the song withering to silence behind her.
Whirling, Alex saw that Ethan was on the ground as well, blood trickling from his lip. Standing above him was Goodwin, breathing hard and rubbing his hand. Taking Ethan by the arm, he pulled him up, away from Alex, leaving her breathless in the grass. She watched as the two moved away, her head spinning with fear.
Once more she turned to search for the woman, but she had vanished as quickly as she’d come, and the sounds of the jungle overtook her ears.
When Goodwin returned, he was alone. With an easy smile, he opened his canteen and offered her a drink. As cool water slid down her throat, her heart calmed and he crouched beside her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded mutely, wondering how long he’d followed them and why he’d chosen to so suddenly appear. Picking up the fallen gun and placing it in his belt, he squinted at the sky. “It’ll be dark soon. We should head back.”
“Why did you stop us?”
Goodwin’s eyes briefly darkened at the question, and he picked a blade of grass. “Ethan was wrong to bring you out here. He was wrong to make you do this.”
“Who was she?”
His lips tightened, but his eyes didn’t smile. “She’s one of them.”
Alex shook her head in confusion. “Who?”
He looked to the distance, where the light grew dim. “Ethan was afraid she would have taken you back.”
“Back where?”
Goodwin didn’t answer, suddenly avoiding her eyes.
“Why would she want to take me?”
At the question, he startled, searching for a way not to answer. “We won’t let her take you. But she didn’t need to die. Not this way. Not by you.” Standing, he offered her a hand, but no further words.
She knew she should be scared, angry even, at what he did. But as they returned to camp she found herself at peace, grateful for his interruption. Grateful for the betrayal of a fellow soldier. Goodwin walked slowly, and the sun began to fall.
“What are you singing?” His voice broke her thoughts minutes later.
“What?” Her mind had drifted, and she forced herself to focus.
“You were singing something. I’ve never heard it before.” He turned to her and smiled. “I just wondered what it was.”
“It was...” She hadn’t realized she was humming the woman’s song, that it stayed with her, its melody ringing in her ears. “Just something I heard.”
Again, he turned to grin, eyes crinkling happily. “I like it. Nobody sings around the camp.”
Alex was silent and Goodwin stopped walking, then turned to look her in the eye. The grin disappeared and something changed, a secret broke with a half-truth spoken.
“But you’re not like the rest...are you, Alex?” When he fixed his eyes on her, she felt her breath catch, surprised he knew her secret. “You already know that. You always have. That’s why I couldn’t let you kill her. Because you’re not like the rest.”
She always knew she wasn’t one of them, but Goodwin never told her why.
She continued humming softly, falling into silence as they reached the camp.
* * * * *
She was the one who found him, days after it happened. The stench and buzz of the flies drew her near. Heavy, leaden feed stumbled as she pushed herself forward, already knowing what lay in her path. Her head swam and her skin went cold when she saw that he was dead.
Reeling backward, she stifled a sob, collapsing into the grass. There she remained until the sun sank from the sky and she could cry no more.
* * * * *
Ethan found her hours later. Seizing her arm, he pulled her roughly to her feet and looked with disgust at her reddened eyes. “We need to move.”
Defiantly pulling away, she shook him off and stared numbly at the ground. A melody began to form in her mind, seeping in and filling the hole left by her grief.
“Now, Alex.” Again, she turned away from his harsh command.
Softly, she began to hum, eyes closed, body rocking gently with the rhythm. Goodwin loved her song, the only one she knew, the one the woman sang. Her voice gained strength and her tongue formed the sounds she understood, her heart finding meaning in the words she did not.
She sang for him until Ethan’s sudden slap shocked her into silence.
Her cheek stung and her hand went to cover the rising welt.
“We need to go,” Ethan repeated. “He was a good soldier and now he’s dead. There’s work to be done.”
As she watched him walk away, Alex’s eyes darkened and a heated strength rose in her chest. She followed him back at a distance, head held high and anger burning in her heart.
* * * * *
The others prepared the room, sterilized the instruments and cleaned the tools. She’d been left to care for the girl, to ready her for the procedure. They would try to take the child, try to make it one of them, a warrior for the cause. Alex had been left to play the part of the good soldier just a little while longer. They trusted her to obey, just as she once trusted them.
But she wasn’t a soldier anymore.
* * * * *
As she ushers the pregnant girl away, releasing her into the jungle, Alex thinks she hears Goodwin’s song whispering through the trees. She thinks she hears the woman’s voice, just as it was on that day. She pushes the girl toward the phantom sound, quietly resolved in her betrayal. Longing and sad, the melody brings her peace. It brings her strength, though surely it’s just the wind.
Soon she’ll follow that song, leave the others behind.
She always knew she wasn’t one of them.