LOST - John Locke
Title: Destiny Remains
Fandom: LOST
Character: John Locke
Theme set: Alpha
Disclaimer: These characters belong to someone else.
Rating: PG
Fate
He screams in helpless rage as the bus pulls away, forgetting for a moment the inevitability of fate and that true destiny always comes to pass.
Two
It takes two of them to carry him to the plane; two of them to replace the legs that are more than worthless now.
Coup de foudre
It’s a shock greater than the noise and confusion of the plane’s final descent; the dance of the ocean breeze over rapidly cooling toes registers like a bolt of lightning searing him to the heated sand.
Wind
Rain falls suddenly from the rolling sky and while others scamper for cover or to hide under pieces of tarp and plane, he tilts his head back, accepting the wind and the rain and the new life they’ve all been given.
Summer
The rest of them don’t know, aren’t aware that this isn’t a temporary place or a crash course in wilderness survival taken at a summer camp; it’s forever summer here and now this is their home.
Speak
“Boars,” he whispers, eyes glowing in the firelight, and thinks he’s found his purpose.
Vanilla
Something out there beckons him, pulls him with a scent that’s vaguely sweet and heavy like days spent sleeping in the shade; he feels it whispering through the trees.
Appetite
When he drags the boar back into camp he is spattered and sweating, blood rushing in his veins and exhausted from the chase; the tall blonde refuses to take any meat.
Fresh
“It’s fresh,” he offers, holding out a dripping piece; she scoffs and turns away while he hides a knowing smile.
Belief
The fuselage burns, but he smiles when away from their saddened eyes; it’s part of the island’s plan and from fire springs new life.
Vine
Jack is falling; John knew it long before he saw the doctor’s feet unsteady in the slippery wet greens, long before he held out his own hand above the desperate man’s grip; Jack is falling, but maybe the white rabbit isn’t what either of them think.
Memory
Walt throwing balled up socks for Vincent to fetch reminds him of that beautiful retriever; but his eyes cloud over when he thinks of his sister and another mother leaving five years later.
Mask
“We all wear masks, Walt - all the time…Nobody’s ever quite what they seem,” he finishes, keeping a careful eye turned to Michael’s jealous figure, watching them in the distance.
Family
“You’re not wanted,” echoes painfully in his mind while he shapes the cradle; he tells himself he carves it so that doesn’t happen here.
Mirror
Jack is strong and wants to heal and no one can tell him what he can’t do; Jack believes in destiny, at least (John thinks) he’ll know it soon.
Ornament
He watches Shannon (haughtily perfect, untouched by the island), then Boone (young and sweet, innocent still), and wonders which is the trophy and which the victor.
Touch
Helen’s fingers skim over his flesh, leaving trails of fire on his skin, and even when he wakes he still feels them burn.
Medicine
He pushed off the suggestion with a wave of his arm because Jack wouldn’t know the first thing about what was wrong with him; this was the point where science and faith diverged.
Pulse
He hears them say blood is pooling in Boone’s leg, that it’s crushed and he’s lost too much; feeling the throb in his own limb he wonders why the island took from Boone what it bestowed on him.
Bribe
To the Island he offers himself, a sacrifice if only the boy will live, but it’s a bribe the Island will not take.
Illuminance
He screams in the night at the darkened hatch, raging at the island for its betrayal of faith until, in a sudden moment, clarity streams from within.
Linger
The water ran red when he rinsed out his shirt; it pooled on the ground and colored his feet, but his hands never seemed to come clean.
Ways and Means
Even as he walks through faith alone, he knows the sacrifice is heavy and many will pay the price.
Grieve
Shannon holds the gun in shaking white hands that seem such a contrast with the dark, bitter anger of her eyes; but he blames only fate and knows grief and vengeance are often the same.
Smoke
He blames Jack for hanging on when he was pulled down that hole, for not leaving him the one time he wished someone would.
Cold
Flames crackle and his face burns against waves of shimmering heat but he shivers against the night air on his back; there’s a familiarity to the sensation - bright warmth and a hollow cold - he’s known both before yet neither is where he should be.
Rope
Cables were all he found, and he gripped them tightly even as they twisted and cut into his flesh, even as Kate’s screams faded to muffled silence in the dark.
Archway
It’s a strange room, Spartan with a constant hum of importance amidst the blinking lights; he often thinks it’s cathedral-like construction wasn’t an accident.
Photograph
That image in the hatch, Desmond and the girl, remind him of Helen and a hundred ways of how it should be.
Candy
“Thought maybe you might, you know, like this,” Hurley says, handing John a Dharma Twinkie from the storeroom of the hatch.
Envelope
The manifest holds their names and half their secrets, but he keeps it tucked away hidden in his bag and waits to break the seal.
Gloves
“Found these in the hatch,” he explains as he holds out the green and brown checked pair and Sun rises uncertainly, “and they’re pretty big, but I thought you could use them for working in your garden.”
Perfect
He smiles softly at the blue-swaddled bundle, tracing Aaron’s face with a gentle hand.
Spoon
“It’s perfect,” she squeals, with her eyes gleaming bright, so he tells her Aaron’s grown and it might be helpful to have something smaller; he likes to whittle anyway.
Butterfly
When Sayid’s choked words fall to silence on Shannon’s grave, John finds himself thinking that the butterflies are slowly dying; fragile and ephemeral, they were never meant to last.
Moth
He could help Charlie again, but the flame burns too brightly within those tiny statues.
Forest
He’d never been the most popular kid, but somewhere between watching birds and building fires he almost (but not quite) learned to forget; there are boars to track now and Dharma stoves, but some things remain unchanged.
Shine
Bruised knuckles with a tight, swollen gleam are the only reminder of what he’s done; Aaron is silent and the tides pulled away Charlie’s blood from the sand.
Drunk
Sawyer has the booze and everything else, but it’s Locke that feels deserving of Jack’s accusing stare.
Need
He listens to the story, to the tale of a man with pale, hungry eyes, and in the darkened cement chamber he thinks that they surely cast a light.
Error
He can’t type the numbers fast enough, and his shaking fingers fumble over the keys as the alarm continues to sound, rising and tightening with the panic and desperation beating a rhythm inside his chest..
Vapor
There’s a story that creeps to the edge of his mind, a tale read in childhood and half forgotten, a story where the castle is stormed through a blanket of fog after many days of quiet dread; the early morning mist unsettles him now, and he wonders if they’re already under siege.
Balloon
Henry Gale is a liar and now the have the proof, but John can’t help but wish the story was true.
Rose
He’s grateful to her for keeping his secret, but thinks that this time, the pain is unwelcome - a punishment for all his sins.
Tea
He’d bring Claire tea, but all he found was coffee; so he pulls away and keeps it for himself, thinking who he is and what he has to offer are both too bitter for her.
Refrain
The verses may change with names and dates, faces and time, but the refrain is always the same; he sings it alone as they all fall away.
Venom
Deceit spreads through all of them, a poison he can’t stop.
Chocolate
He saved the last cheap Apollo bar as he begged the image to return; he saved it in celebration of a moment that never came.
Crossroads
He hesitates, his finger paused above the key and he wonders, for a moment, doubt in his mind, what would happen if he just...stopped.
Remain
There’s a blood-red flash when time ticks to an end, and though faith was lost, destiny remains.
Feedback and concrit welcome.
Fandom: LOST
Character: John Locke
Theme set: Alpha
Disclaimer: These characters belong to someone else.
Rating: PG
Fate
He screams in helpless rage as the bus pulls away, forgetting for a moment the inevitability of fate and that true destiny always comes to pass.
Two
It takes two of them to carry him to the plane; two of them to replace the legs that are more than worthless now.
Coup de foudre
It’s a shock greater than the noise and confusion of the plane’s final descent; the dance of the ocean breeze over rapidly cooling toes registers like a bolt of lightning searing him to the heated sand.
Wind
Rain falls suddenly from the rolling sky and while others scamper for cover or to hide under pieces of tarp and plane, he tilts his head back, accepting the wind and the rain and the new life they’ve all been given.
Summer
The rest of them don’t know, aren’t aware that this isn’t a temporary place or a crash course in wilderness survival taken at a summer camp; it’s forever summer here and now this is their home.
Speak
“Boars,” he whispers, eyes glowing in the firelight, and thinks he’s found his purpose.
Vanilla
Something out there beckons him, pulls him with a scent that’s vaguely sweet and heavy like days spent sleeping in the shade; he feels it whispering through the trees.
Appetite
When he drags the boar back into camp he is spattered and sweating, blood rushing in his veins and exhausted from the chase; the tall blonde refuses to take any meat.
Fresh
“It’s fresh,” he offers, holding out a dripping piece; she scoffs and turns away while he hides a knowing smile.
Belief
The fuselage burns, but he smiles when away from their saddened eyes; it’s part of the island’s plan and from fire springs new life.
Vine
Jack is falling; John knew it long before he saw the doctor’s feet unsteady in the slippery wet greens, long before he held out his own hand above the desperate man’s grip; Jack is falling, but maybe the white rabbit isn’t what either of them think.
Memory
Walt throwing balled up socks for Vincent to fetch reminds him of that beautiful retriever; but his eyes cloud over when he thinks of his sister and another mother leaving five years later.
Mask
“We all wear masks, Walt - all the time…Nobody’s ever quite what they seem,” he finishes, keeping a careful eye turned to Michael’s jealous figure, watching them in the distance.
Family
“You’re not wanted,” echoes painfully in his mind while he shapes the cradle; he tells himself he carves it so that doesn’t happen here.
Mirror
Jack is strong and wants to heal and no one can tell him what he can’t do; Jack believes in destiny, at least (John thinks) he’ll know it soon.
Ornament
He watches Shannon (haughtily perfect, untouched by the island), then Boone (young and sweet, innocent still), and wonders which is the trophy and which the victor.
Touch
Helen’s fingers skim over his flesh, leaving trails of fire on his skin, and even when he wakes he still feels them burn.
Medicine
He pushed off the suggestion with a wave of his arm because Jack wouldn’t know the first thing about what was wrong with him; this was the point where science and faith diverged.
Pulse
He hears them say blood is pooling in Boone’s leg, that it’s crushed and he’s lost too much; feeling the throb in his own limb he wonders why the island took from Boone what it bestowed on him.
Bribe
To the Island he offers himself, a sacrifice if only the boy will live, but it’s a bribe the Island will not take.
Illuminance
He screams in the night at the darkened hatch, raging at the island for its betrayal of faith until, in a sudden moment, clarity streams from within.
Linger
The water ran red when he rinsed out his shirt; it pooled on the ground and colored his feet, but his hands never seemed to come clean.
Ways and Means
Even as he walks through faith alone, he knows the sacrifice is heavy and many will pay the price.
Grieve
Shannon holds the gun in shaking white hands that seem such a contrast with the dark, bitter anger of her eyes; but he blames only fate and knows grief and vengeance are often the same.
Smoke
He blames Jack for hanging on when he was pulled down that hole, for not leaving him the one time he wished someone would.
Cold
Flames crackle and his face burns against waves of shimmering heat but he shivers against the night air on his back; there’s a familiarity to the sensation - bright warmth and a hollow cold - he’s known both before yet neither is where he should be.
Rope
Cables were all he found, and he gripped them tightly even as they twisted and cut into his flesh, even as Kate’s screams faded to muffled silence in the dark.
Archway
It’s a strange room, Spartan with a constant hum of importance amidst the blinking lights; he often thinks it’s cathedral-like construction wasn’t an accident.
Photograph
That image in the hatch, Desmond and the girl, remind him of Helen and a hundred ways of how it should be.
Candy
“Thought maybe you might, you know, like this,” Hurley says, handing John a Dharma Twinkie from the storeroom of the hatch.
Envelope
The manifest holds their names and half their secrets, but he keeps it tucked away hidden in his bag and waits to break the seal.
Gloves
“Found these in the hatch,” he explains as he holds out the green and brown checked pair and Sun rises uncertainly, “and they’re pretty big, but I thought you could use them for working in your garden.”
Perfect
He smiles softly at the blue-swaddled bundle, tracing Aaron’s face with a gentle hand.
Spoon
“It’s perfect,” she squeals, with her eyes gleaming bright, so he tells her Aaron’s grown and it might be helpful to have something smaller; he likes to whittle anyway.
Butterfly
When Sayid’s choked words fall to silence on Shannon’s grave, John finds himself thinking that the butterflies are slowly dying; fragile and ephemeral, they were never meant to last.
Moth
He could help Charlie again, but the flame burns too brightly within those tiny statues.
Forest
He’d never been the most popular kid, but somewhere between watching birds and building fires he almost (but not quite) learned to forget; there are boars to track now and Dharma stoves, but some things remain unchanged.
Shine
Bruised knuckles with a tight, swollen gleam are the only reminder of what he’s done; Aaron is silent and the tides pulled away Charlie’s blood from the sand.
Drunk
Sawyer has the booze and everything else, but it’s Locke that feels deserving of Jack’s accusing stare.
Need
He listens to the story, to the tale of a man with pale, hungry eyes, and in the darkened cement chamber he thinks that they surely cast a light.
Error
He can’t type the numbers fast enough, and his shaking fingers fumble over the keys as the alarm continues to sound, rising and tightening with the panic and desperation beating a rhythm inside his chest..
Vapor
There’s a story that creeps to the edge of his mind, a tale read in childhood and half forgotten, a story where the castle is stormed through a blanket of fog after many days of quiet dread; the early morning mist unsettles him now, and he wonders if they’re already under siege.
Balloon
Henry Gale is a liar and now the have the proof, but John can’t help but wish the story was true.
Rose
He’s grateful to her for keeping his secret, but thinks that this time, the pain is unwelcome - a punishment for all his sins.
Tea
He’d bring Claire tea, but all he found was coffee; so he pulls away and keeps it for himself, thinking who he is and what he has to offer are both too bitter for her.
Refrain
The verses may change with names and dates, faces and time, but the refrain is always the same; he sings it alone as they all fall away.
Venom
Deceit spreads through all of them, a poison he can’t stop.
Chocolate
He saved the last cheap Apollo bar as he begged the image to return; he saved it in celebration of a moment that never came.
Crossroads
He hesitates, his finger paused above the key and he wonders, for a moment, doubt in his mind, what would happen if he just...stopped.
Remain
There’s a blood-red flash when time ticks to an end, and though faith was lost, destiny remains.
Feedback and concrit welcome.