fic, Lost: But I'll know my song well before I start singing (Boone, some others), PG, 3470 words
This be my finale reaction fic. Which is not what I should've been doing but I needed it out. Also because I WROTE LOST UNPROMPTED FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE THE VARIABLE. \o/ Sort of.
Title: But I'll know my song well before I start singing
Rating: PG
Characters: alt!Boone plus a bunch of other alt!people
Words: 3470
Summary: Then again, he figures, there’s a reason if he remembers. Or, alt!Boone's POV on pretty much everything.
Spoilers: heavy and major for the finale. Summary is visible just if you highlight just to be absolutely sure I don't spoil you, even if it's vague.
Disclaimer: Lost isn't mine, pfffff. I wish.
A/N: I needed to get this out. Physically. Also, today I ended up bawling so much that even if I can't cry anymore my vision is blurry, therefore forgive me for anything that might have been caused by poor vision. Title from Bob Dylan.
He remembers that he’s dead a bit after as he gets off the plane.
It doesn’t come in a flash. Or better, it does, but not as soon as it could have.
It begins with his skin slightly tingling when he shakes hands with the guy sitting next to him, but it hits full force as he grabs his luggage and heads for the door.
And then the flash arrives.
He sees himself at Shannon’s dad’s funeral, he sees himself actually bringing her with him from Australia and oh, fuck, falling into a bed with her first, the sheets silk and her body warm and pliant under his hands (and then, back to what it was, she said), he sees that same plane crashing, he sees an island, he sees himself searching for pens to give to that doctor - Jack, Jack Shephard - who rescued that other guy - Charlie, Charlie Pace - before, he sees Shannon drifting away from him with Sayid, he sees becoming friends with the guy next to him on the - John, John Locke, that’s the name - and then he sees a yellow beechcraft and then he’s falling and failing to breathe and Jack whispering promises (I’m going to fix this, okay? I’m going to save you), a confused flash of him pushing John in a wheelchair in an airport and then he remembers nothing except this.
This, meaning this life.
He finds a seat and drops down on it, taking large and slow breaths, for a while, and does some math. He’s dead. He died. That happened, and he knows. He doesn’t know how, but it’s a feeling in his gut that tells him that this isn’t some kind of alternate world or sci-fi crap like that. He died. This is the afterlife. That’s it.
That’s just it.
And, for some reason, after freaking out for exactly one minute, he realizes he’s perfectly okay with it.
If only, because of the way John half-smiled in his direction during the trip, and of the way he lied about his legs, because Boone knows he lied. He can recognize when something is true and when it isn’t, if only for first hand experience. Boone is pretty sure that if John was there, then he’s gone, too. Everyone else might be, too.
He doesn’t know what to do with the information, though. He can’t just stop Sawyer, who is passing right alongside him, and tell him that hey, they’re all dead. He doesn’t even know why he remembers, except that maybe since he doesn’t think anyone else from the island died before him it might have something to do with it. In the end, since he still has a life here, and things to do, because otherwise there wouldn’t be a reason for him to be here, he figures he will just pretend. For the time being.
--
If only, he thinks as he sits at his desk and starts looking at the balance sheets for the month in the Amnesty International office he works for, this beats doing the accounting for his mom’s wedding company. A lot. He remembers always wanting to do this kind of job, back then (except that here he also does volunteering and gives out flyers and talks with other people who want to be volunteers and it’s amazing; he’d be happy with just the accounting but like this? Like this he feels like he makes a difference). He never could, there. Here, he just told his mother that he wasn’t interested and used his degree to do what he wanted; hell, here, he isn’t in love with Shannon. Here he behaves like the person he used to want to be back there.
He used to be in love with Shannon, alright. Oh, it used to be. But here, now, he can see that it wasn’t even a case of it wasn’t meant to be. It was mostly a case of hopeless obsession combined with self-esteem issues which was never going to go anywhere and would have probably ended up eating them both. She kind of got out of it better than he did, sure, but you know what? He doesn’t mind. He remembers her with Sayid. They were kind of mismatched, if you looked at the appearances, but in truth, they were quite good for each other, he thinks. He just couldn’t see it back then.
Well, he kind of wasn’t the sharpest knife in John’s suitcase, either, even if he wasn’t an idiot, thank you. Maybe naïve, maybe needy, maybe wanting just some attention, maybe too trusting, maybe too afraid to speak his mind, but he wasn’t an idiot then and he isn’t now. He sees things clearly now as he saw clearly that it was time to go back then; and fuck, he thinks, he would really like to thank Jack in person. And Sun, too, because she was there, even if he remembers Jack much more clearly.
Then again, he figures, there’s a reason if he remembers.
Maybe the others will, too, eventually.
He smiles to himself, and figures he can be patient. This time, he can.
He starts checking the balance sheet, and feels accomplished while doing so.
--
He calls Shannon, from time to time. She still wants to stay with that jerk in Australia, and Boone tries to get if she remembers anything, but she doesn’t. And the more time passes, the more he wonders why he was ever jealous of Sayid. He was definitely better for her than that idiot ever could even hope. Then again, he can’t go searching for Sayid and ask him to go and pursue his sister when they probably don’t remember each other.
For the rest, life (life?) goes on. And if sometimes, when passing in front of this church, he feels like he should go inside, he doesn’t ignore it.
Eventually, he finds out it was where Jack’s dad’s funeral was supposed to be.
He thinks he knows why he wants to go inside, as soon as he registers the information; but he also knows it’s not time.
--
Life goes on, until he gets a call. A Hugo Reyes wants to talk to you, he’s told while he’s checking accounts, and Boone smiles when he lifts the phone’s receiver.
“Hi, Hurley,” he says first thing.
“Dude, please tell me that you remember it. ‘Cause you’d be the… well, technically not the first, but of everyone I contacted? No one did.”
“Oh, I do. I remember everything.”
--
He meets up with Hurley and this Desmond guy who apparently came into the picture after Boone was out of it. Then he finds out that Desmond was in the fucking hatch and that he heard him and John knocking at times but he filed it as a delusion until John pounded damn hard on that door and the guy actually didn’t commit suicide because of that.
Boone laughs so hard, at that, that for a second they look at him like he’s nuts.
Then he explains the situation. And they start laughing, too. It shouldn’t be fun. I shouldn’t be. But for some reason, it is. Maybe because it’s all behind, mostly.
Then he finds out that apparently, people are starting to remember. As soon as they touch each other. Preferably someone with whom they had more than a fleeting contact.
Boone can see why he remembered after John.
And then Desmond tells them about the concert.
Which is how Boone, Hurley and Desmond start planning everything very, very carefully how to actually make everything tie nicely while sitting at a table at Mr. Cluck’s eating some freaking unhealthy chicken, and Boone doesn’t think he has felt this good for a long time.
Maybe because he always wanted, back then, to do something for her, to make her happy, and this time, he thinks he actually can.
If it isn’t with him? Well, he can live with it. After all, he had learned to let go. He just never had occasion to put it into practice.
That’s when he kind of realizes why they’re all here, why Hurley is apparently lucky instead of the contrary as he used to be back then (or as he says): they’re here to fulfill what they couldn’t.
And considering that he never really managed to accomplish much, before, he’s really looking forward to doing this.
Also, it feels like being in the fucking A-Team in which it was destiny he couldn’t be.
These are satisfactions, aren’t they?
--
The plan is all nice and neat and good, and thankfully Desmond seems to know a lot of shit for some psychic crazy reason; and his part, after all, isn’t that hard. He just needs to get Shannon here, and it’s not even a question. She has to be; she just doesn’t know it yet.
Desmond takes most of the load on himself and disappears saying he’ll give precise instructions in a short while. Boone and Hurley are left with the remaining fries.
“So, dude, you sure you want to get beaten?”
“I’m not exactly looking forward to it, but I’m pretty sure it’ll work. As long as I manage to convince her to get here.”
“Can you do that in five days?”
“Well, you just let me try. If I do, I’ll let you know first thing.”
“Awesome, dude, awesome. So, what do you say about some pie?”
Boone decides he can do with some pie.
--
Convincing Shannon is a fucking pain in the ass.
At the beginning she doesn’t want to hear it. Then she says she doesn’t really want to leave. Then she says that she should stay at his place and Sabrina might pop up and that’s not really something she’s fucking looking forward too.
Boone can’t tell her that he wants her to meet the damned love of her life again, and sometimes he wishes she was a bit less stubborn.
No such luck, and so he has to resort to low means.
You see, she always was the manipulative one, out of the two of them; but he learned his lesson back then, and he can try to put it to practice now.
Also, his birthday is (really) in five days, which just serves his plan.
So he downright pleads with her. They haven’t talked for so much time, the last time they were there for each others’ birthday they were seventeen or eighteen, he really wants to see her, and can’t she just do it for once? And so on.
If he knows how things are, she will crumble, because if in the end (as Hurley said) she felt guilty for letting him die… she might not remember, but she’d feel it somewhere. Exactly as he felt that he quite liked John on the plane. And if he pushes on her buttons a bit, she might relent.
And by the way, he isn’t much angry about the plane or the lying. He could have, but from what Hurley told him of what happened to John after… he really can’t. And he can’t wait for John to remember, too. Because he really wants to talk to him, too.
So he pleads, and in the end she snorts and says fine, sure, whatever, I’ll come.
Boone calls Hurley first thing after.
--
Finding a guy who will start a fight with him if properly paid isn’t that hard, either.
Just, as said guy earns his money, Boone wishes that Hurley was kind of faster with the goddamn car and goddamn Sayid because he got enough beatings, real and metaphorical, in his other life, to stand much of this.
Thankfully Shannon does finally get off her freaking high heels and come to his aid or something, and then Boone just has to duck and sneak away trying to be as quiet as possible because Sayid is already out of the car, and even if he has a split lip that hurts like a bitch, he knows it’s going to work.
And it does, and as he glances at them from the darkness of the alley… he doesn’t think he has ever seen her looking so happy.
“I just got pounded, man. Thanks for taking your own sweet time,” he says as he leans against the door of the car. Even if his tone doesn’t really deliver that as it should have.
“It takes as long as it takes,” Hurley answers looking like he’s biting back laughter, and Boone just turns his head, watches them embrace and shakes his head.
“It was a pain in the ass getting her from Australia,” he remarks.
“Yeah, but dude? It was worth it,” Hurley says, and… yeah, he thinks as Shannon and Sayid start kissing, tentatively first and bolder later, it was. So much. She looks so happy, he does too, they almost seem to glow in their happiness, and knowing that he had a role in this feels much more satisfying than the idea of being an actual part of it. He’s okay. He really is.
And then he feels that pull towards the church again, and at the same time he can’t help keeping that stupid smile on his split lip.
“Should I go get them?” he asks, but Hurley shakes his head.
“Nah. Let’s give them a moment,” and Boone finds out he wants them to have it. And so he smiles and nods and keeps on watching them, Shannon’s body melting against Sayid’s like it never did against his own, and anyway it felt wrong even then while this feels so right that he can’t even say how much.
And then he realizes that maybe he just wanted to help around that much because he liked seeing people happy and he never could do that, for some reason; but now he just did it for the two of them. And fuck, if he doesn’t feel accomplished.
At one point, they actually come towards the car on their own. Shannon asks him whether he knew, he says yes and she looks like she wants to punch him but then she hugs him so hard that his breath is knocked out.
“I’m sorry,” she says then, and he knows for what, and he shakes his head and kisses her temple on instinct.
“Nah. It wasn’t really what was meant to be. But if you acknowledge that you were a total bitch to me, why, then I’ll be glad to accept it.”
She seems debating on whether to punch him again after that, but he gets another hug instead. And he doesn’t really complain about it. That would be kind of stupid, wouldn’t it?
Then Sayid comes forward, looking like a fish out of water and like he doesn’t know what he should do or say, probably imagining that if Boone came with Hurley he knows everything about what he did after Shannon died. And Boone knows, and he doesn’t give a fuck, so he shakes his head, goes forward and since it’s not like Hurley isn’t lifting Shannon up, he goes and hugs Sayid instead. He feels him stiffen for a second, obviously not expecting it, but then Sayid hugs him back and Boone lets out a breath of relief at that.
It doesn’t last too much, but it lasts enough, and when they step back Boone just raises his hand before Sayid can open his mouth.
“Just take care of her, alright?” he asks, and Sayid gives him a small smile back as he turns slightly and watches Shannon still hugging Hurley.
“Yes, I will,” he answers, tears sort of welling up in his eyes, and that’s exactly what Boone wanted to hear.
And then they get in the car because they need to bring Charlie to that concert before it starts and before they can go where they’re supposed to.
--
When he gets into the church, he just waits.
Mostly, he waits for three people, because there are three things he needs to do before they go.
(He knows that they’re going. That they’re going, all of them. And he’s known for a while. He’s okay with it. He’s pretty sure that they will all be together anyway, so why worrying? After all, they died already.)
So he waits for John to get in. And he’s walking, and Boone has never seen him on a wheelchair even if he knows he was on one, but for some reason he feels something warm blooming somewhere inside him, and he stands up from his bench to go in his direction.
“John,” he says holding out his hand. John smiles slightly and shakes it, and it feels good.
“I’m sorry. For lying to Jack, if only,” John says then, and Boone just shakes his head, but Locke doesn’t let his hand go and keeps on talking.
“Someone, outside, just apologized to me for practically killing me. And while with you and me it was different… I can’t do this if I don’t apologize, too. My fault entirely or not, I brought you to it.”
And Boone really can’t answer anything different from what comes from his mouth next. “Forgiven. I was never one to hold grudges for too much time, anyway. I already made that clear once,” he says, because he remembers talking to John after he died, even if it’s more fuzzy than anything.
John nods and well, since everyone else is in full hug-mode again, Boone just shrugs, tugs John forward and brings his hands on John’s shoulders; even if it lasts for seconds, it feels good. It feels like closing a chapter. It feels closer to the end. And so when they part he just punches John’s arm before turning, and as soon as he sees Sun he hugs her too, and she hugs him back and when he thanks her, she just smiles and shakes her head, and she’s crying with joy.
Fuck, everyone is, and it feels so good that he can’t even say.
“You never gave me that book back,” he tells Sawyer after he comes by and introduces Juliet to him; and then Sawyer, no, James, it’s James now, just shakes his head and tugs him forward. And damn, it feels great. Even if Boone never got to finish that goddamn thing.
“And if you really care that much, soon as we’re on the other side, I’ll tell you how it ended. Deal?”
“Deal,” Boone says before turning back, because he saw a door open before.
Jack has just been released from Desmond’s hold and Boone has just left Sawyer’s, and their eyes meet and there’s something in the way Jack smiles that makes that warmth spread all the way inside Boone, that makes him grin back, and he really doesn’t need to say anything as he moves forward and wraps his arms around Jack’s shoulders and hands which had tried to save him at all costs close around Boone’s own shoulders just as tight. He clings on for a handful of seconds, thank you for trying written in each single movement he makes, and the way Jack answers without words is enough to make him feel breathless for a second.
And then it’s over, but it feels like he really has done everything he should have. That was the last thing he had to take care of, and now he knows that wherever they’re going it’s a new start for all of them. He wonders, as he sits next to Juliet because she motioned for him to (and it was nice of her, it really was) if when the light pouring from the open door will bring them to another island, maybe like the one they crashed on but less crazy. Or if it’ll be a whole other place altogether. Then he locks eyes with John, who’s sitting on the other side but on the same row of seats, and he nods in his direction before the white light absorbs everything, and as he does he’s sure that whatever happens, they will all be alright. They found each other once, they’ll stick together now, and frankly, he can’t wait. He doesn’t mind being one of the few on his own (in theory, because in practice he isn’t), he feels like he has finally done something great and actually done it right all the way, he doesn’t have any regrets; it might have taken him a lot of time to get here, but it really doesn’t matter now.
The only thing he’s sure of, is that he’s looking forward to everything that is in store for him.
He doesn’t have an idea of what it is, but he kind of can’t wait to find out. And so he lets the light swallow him and thinks, I’m ready.
End.
Title: But I'll know my song well before I start singing
Rating: PG
Characters: alt!Boone plus a bunch of other alt!people
Words: 3470
Summary: Then again, he figures, there’s a reason if he remembers. Or, alt!Boone's POV on pretty much everything.
Spoilers: heavy and major for the finale. Summary is visible just if you highlight just to be absolutely sure I don't spoil you, even if it's vague.
Disclaimer: Lost isn't mine, pfffff. I wish.
A/N: I needed to get this out. Physically. Also, today I ended up bawling so much that even if I can't cry anymore my vision is blurry, therefore forgive me for anything that might have been caused by poor vision. Title from Bob Dylan.
He remembers that he’s dead a bit after as he gets off the plane.
It doesn’t come in a flash. Or better, it does, but not as soon as it could have.
It begins with his skin slightly tingling when he shakes hands with the guy sitting next to him, but it hits full force as he grabs his luggage and heads for the door.
And then the flash arrives.
He sees himself at Shannon’s dad’s funeral, he sees himself actually bringing her with him from Australia and oh, fuck, falling into a bed with her first, the sheets silk and her body warm and pliant under his hands (and then, back to what it was, she said), he sees that same plane crashing, he sees an island, he sees himself searching for pens to give to that doctor - Jack, Jack Shephard - who rescued that other guy - Charlie, Charlie Pace - before, he sees Shannon drifting away from him with Sayid, he sees becoming friends with the guy next to him on the - John, John Locke, that’s the name - and then he sees a yellow beechcraft and then he’s falling and failing to breathe and Jack whispering promises (I’m going to fix this, okay? I’m going to save you), a confused flash of him pushing John in a wheelchair in an airport and then he remembers nothing except this.
This, meaning this life.
He finds a seat and drops down on it, taking large and slow breaths, for a while, and does some math. He’s dead. He died. That happened, and he knows. He doesn’t know how, but it’s a feeling in his gut that tells him that this isn’t some kind of alternate world or sci-fi crap like that. He died. This is the afterlife. That’s it.
That’s just it.
And, for some reason, after freaking out for exactly one minute, he realizes he’s perfectly okay with it.
If only, because of the way John half-smiled in his direction during the trip, and of the way he lied about his legs, because Boone knows he lied. He can recognize when something is true and when it isn’t, if only for first hand experience. Boone is pretty sure that if John was there, then he’s gone, too. Everyone else might be, too.
He doesn’t know what to do with the information, though. He can’t just stop Sawyer, who is passing right alongside him, and tell him that hey, they’re all dead. He doesn’t even know why he remembers, except that maybe since he doesn’t think anyone else from the island died before him it might have something to do with it. In the end, since he still has a life here, and things to do, because otherwise there wouldn’t be a reason for him to be here, he figures he will just pretend. For the time being.
--
If only, he thinks as he sits at his desk and starts looking at the balance sheets for the month in the Amnesty International office he works for, this beats doing the accounting for his mom’s wedding company. A lot. He remembers always wanting to do this kind of job, back then (except that here he also does volunteering and gives out flyers and talks with other people who want to be volunteers and it’s amazing; he’d be happy with just the accounting but like this? Like this he feels like he makes a difference). He never could, there. Here, he just told his mother that he wasn’t interested and used his degree to do what he wanted; hell, here, he isn’t in love with Shannon. Here he behaves like the person he used to want to be back there.
He used to be in love with Shannon, alright. Oh, it used to be. But here, now, he can see that it wasn’t even a case of it wasn’t meant to be. It was mostly a case of hopeless obsession combined with self-esteem issues which was never going to go anywhere and would have probably ended up eating them both. She kind of got out of it better than he did, sure, but you know what? He doesn’t mind. He remembers her with Sayid. They were kind of mismatched, if you looked at the appearances, but in truth, they were quite good for each other, he thinks. He just couldn’t see it back then.
Well, he kind of wasn’t the sharpest knife in John’s suitcase, either, even if he wasn’t an idiot, thank you. Maybe naïve, maybe needy, maybe wanting just some attention, maybe too trusting, maybe too afraid to speak his mind, but he wasn’t an idiot then and he isn’t now. He sees things clearly now as he saw clearly that it was time to go back then; and fuck, he thinks, he would really like to thank Jack in person. And Sun, too, because she was there, even if he remembers Jack much more clearly.
Then again, he figures, there’s a reason if he remembers.
Maybe the others will, too, eventually.
He smiles to himself, and figures he can be patient. This time, he can.
He starts checking the balance sheet, and feels accomplished while doing so.
--
He calls Shannon, from time to time. She still wants to stay with that jerk in Australia, and Boone tries to get if she remembers anything, but she doesn’t. And the more time passes, the more he wonders why he was ever jealous of Sayid. He was definitely better for her than that idiot ever could even hope. Then again, he can’t go searching for Sayid and ask him to go and pursue his sister when they probably don’t remember each other.
For the rest, life (life?) goes on. And if sometimes, when passing in front of this church, he feels like he should go inside, he doesn’t ignore it.
Eventually, he finds out it was where Jack’s dad’s funeral was supposed to be.
He thinks he knows why he wants to go inside, as soon as he registers the information; but he also knows it’s not time.
--
Life goes on, until he gets a call. A Hugo Reyes wants to talk to you, he’s told while he’s checking accounts, and Boone smiles when he lifts the phone’s receiver.
“Hi, Hurley,” he says first thing.
“Dude, please tell me that you remember it. ‘Cause you’d be the… well, technically not the first, but of everyone I contacted? No one did.”
“Oh, I do. I remember everything.”
--
He meets up with Hurley and this Desmond guy who apparently came into the picture after Boone was out of it. Then he finds out that Desmond was in the fucking hatch and that he heard him and John knocking at times but he filed it as a delusion until John pounded damn hard on that door and the guy actually didn’t commit suicide because of that.
Boone laughs so hard, at that, that for a second they look at him like he’s nuts.
Then he explains the situation. And they start laughing, too. It shouldn’t be fun. I shouldn’t be. But for some reason, it is. Maybe because it’s all behind, mostly.
Then he finds out that apparently, people are starting to remember. As soon as they touch each other. Preferably someone with whom they had more than a fleeting contact.
Boone can see why he remembered after John.
And then Desmond tells them about the concert.
Which is how Boone, Hurley and Desmond start planning everything very, very carefully how to actually make everything tie nicely while sitting at a table at Mr. Cluck’s eating some freaking unhealthy chicken, and Boone doesn’t think he has felt this good for a long time.
Maybe because he always wanted, back then, to do something for her, to make her happy, and this time, he thinks he actually can.
If it isn’t with him? Well, he can live with it. After all, he had learned to let go. He just never had occasion to put it into practice.
That’s when he kind of realizes why they’re all here, why Hurley is apparently lucky instead of the contrary as he used to be back then (or as he says): they’re here to fulfill what they couldn’t.
And considering that he never really managed to accomplish much, before, he’s really looking forward to doing this.
Also, it feels like being in the fucking A-Team in which it was destiny he couldn’t be.
These are satisfactions, aren’t they?
--
The plan is all nice and neat and good, and thankfully Desmond seems to know a lot of shit for some psychic crazy reason; and his part, after all, isn’t that hard. He just needs to get Shannon here, and it’s not even a question. She has to be; she just doesn’t know it yet.
Desmond takes most of the load on himself and disappears saying he’ll give precise instructions in a short while. Boone and Hurley are left with the remaining fries.
“So, dude, you sure you want to get beaten?”
“I’m not exactly looking forward to it, but I’m pretty sure it’ll work. As long as I manage to convince her to get here.”
“Can you do that in five days?”
“Well, you just let me try. If I do, I’ll let you know first thing.”
“Awesome, dude, awesome. So, what do you say about some pie?”
Boone decides he can do with some pie.
--
Convincing Shannon is a fucking pain in the ass.
At the beginning she doesn’t want to hear it. Then she says she doesn’t really want to leave. Then she says that she should stay at his place and Sabrina might pop up and that’s not really something she’s fucking looking forward too.
Boone can’t tell her that he wants her to meet the damned love of her life again, and sometimes he wishes she was a bit less stubborn.
No such luck, and so he has to resort to low means.
You see, she always was the manipulative one, out of the two of them; but he learned his lesson back then, and he can try to put it to practice now.
Also, his birthday is (really) in five days, which just serves his plan.
So he downright pleads with her. They haven’t talked for so much time, the last time they were there for each others’ birthday they were seventeen or eighteen, he really wants to see her, and can’t she just do it for once? And so on.
If he knows how things are, she will crumble, because if in the end (as Hurley said) she felt guilty for letting him die… she might not remember, but she’d feel it somewhere. Exactly as he felt that he quite liked John on the plane. And if he pushes on her buttons a bit, she might relent.
And by the way, he isn’t much angry about the plane or the lying. He could have, but from what Hurley told him of what happened to John after… he really can’t. And he can’t wait for John to remember, too. Because he really wants to talk to him, too.
So he pleads, and in the end she snorts and says fine, sure, whatever, I’ll come.
Boone calls Hurley first thing after.
--
Finding a guy who will start a fight with him if properly paid isn’t that hard, either.
Just, as said guy earns his money, Boone wishes that Hurley was kind of faster with the goddamn car and goddamn Sayid because he got enough beatings, real and metaphorical, in his other life, to stand much of this.
Thankfully Shannon does finally get off her freaking high heels and come to his aid or something, and then Boone just has to duck and sneak away trying to be as quiet as possible because Sayid is already out of the car, and even if he has a split lip that hurts like a bitch, he knows it’s going to work.
And it does, and as he glances at them from the darkness of the alley… he doesn’t think he has ever seen her looking so happy.
“I just got pounded, man. Thanks for taking your own sweet time,” he says as he leans against the door of the car. Even if his tone doesn’t really deliver that as it should have.
“It takes as long as it takes,” Hurley answers looking like he’s biting back laughter, and Boone just turns his head, watches them embrace and shakes his head.
“It was a pain in the ass getting her from Australia,” he remarks.
“Yeah, but dude? It was worth it,” Hurley says, and… yeah, he thinks as Shannon and Sayid start kissing, tentatively first and bolder later, it was. So much. She looks so happy, he does too, they almost seem to glow in their happiness, and knowing that he had a role in this feels much more satisfying than the idea of being an actual part of it. He’s okay. He really is.
And then he feels that pull towards the church again, and at the same time he can’t help keeping that stupid smile on his split lip.
“Should I go get them?” he asks, but Hurley shakes his head.
“Nah. Let’s give them a moment,” and Boone finds out he wants them to have it. And so he smiles and nods and keeps on watching them, Shannon’s body melting against Sayid’s like it never did against his own, and anyway it felt wrong even then while this feels so right that he can’t even say how much.
And then he realizes that maybe he just wanted to help around that much because he liked seeing people happy and he never could do that, for some reason; but now he just did it for the two of them. And fuck, if he doesn’t feel accomplished.
At one point, they actually come towards the car on their own. Shannon asks him whether he knew, he says yes and she looks like she wants to punch him but then she hugs him so hard that his breath is knocked out.
“I’m sorry,” she says then, and he knows for what, and he shakes his head and kisses her temple on instinct.
“Nah. It wasn’t really what was meant to be. But if you acknowledge that you were a total bitch to me, why, then I’ll be glad to accept it.”
She seems debating on whether to punch him again after that, but he gets another hug instead. And he doesn’t really complain about it. That would be kind of stupid, wouldn’t it?
Then Sayid comes forward, looking like a fish out of water and like he doesn’t know what he should do or say, probably imagining that if Boone came with Hurley he knows everything about what he did after Shannon died. And Boone knows, and he doesn’t give a fuck, so he shakes his head, goes forward and since it’s not like Hurley isn’t lifting Shannon up, he goes and hugs Sayid instead. He feels him stiffen for a second, obviously not expecting it, but then Sayid hugs him back and Boone lets out a breath of relief at that.
It doesn’t last too much, but it lasts enough, and when they step back Boone just raises his hand before Sayid can open his mouth.
“Just take care of her, alright?” he asks, and Sayid gives him a small smile back as he turns slightly and watches Shannon still hugging Hurley.
“Yes, I will,” he answers, tears sort of welling up in his eyes, and that’s exactly what Boone wanted to hear.
And then they get in the car because they need to bring Charlie to that concert before it starts and before they can go where they’re supposed to.
--
When he gets into the church, he just waits.
Mostly, he waits for three people, because there are three things he needs to do before they go.
(He knows that they’re going. That they’re going, all of them. And he’s known for a while. He’s okay with it. He’s pretty sure that they will all be together anyway, so why worrying? After all, they died already.)
So he waits for John to get in. And he’s walking, and Boone has never seen him on a wheelchair even if he knows he was on one, but for some reason he feels something warm blooming somewhere inside him, and he stands up from his bench to go in his direction.
“John,” he says holding out his hand. John smiles slightly and shakes it, and it feels good.
“I’m sorry. For lying to Jack, if only,” John says then, and Boone just shakes his head, but Locke doesn’t let his hand go and keeps on talking.
“Someone, outside, just apologized to me for practically killing me. And while with you and me it was different… I can’t do this if I don’t apologize, too. My fault entirely or not, I brought you to it.”
And Boone really can’t answer anything different from what comes from his mouth next. “Forgiven. I was never one to hold grudges for too much time, anyway. I already made that clear once,” he says, because he remembers talking to John after he died, even if it’s more fuzzy than anything.
John nods and well, since everyone else is in full hug-mode again, Boone just shrugs, tugs John forward and brings his hands on John’s shoulders; even if it lasts for seconds, it feels good. It feels like closing a chapter. It feels closer to the end. And so when they part he just punches John’s arm before turning, and as soon as he sees Sun he hugs her too, and she hugs him back and when he thanks her, she just smiles and shakes her head, and she’s crying with joy.
Fuck, everyone is, and it feels so good that he can’t even say.
“You never gave me that book back,” he tells Sawyer after he comes by and introduces Juliet to him; and then Sawyer, no, James, it’s James now, just shakes his head and tugs him forward. And damn, it feels great. Even if Boone never got to finish that goddamn thing.
“And if you really care that much, soon as we’re on the other side, I’ll tell you how it ended. Deal?”
“Deal,” Boone says before turning back, because he saw a door open before.
Jack has just been released from Desmond’s hold and Boone has just left Sawyer’s, and their eyes meet and there’s something in the way Jack smiles that makes that warmth spread all the way inside Boone, that makes him grin back, and he really doesn’t need to say anything as he moves forward and wraps his arms around Jack’s shoulders and hands which had tried to save him at all costs close around Boone’s own shoulders just as tight. He clings on for a handful of seconds, thank you for trying written in each single movement he makes, and the way Jack answers without words is enough to make him feel breathless for a second.
And then it’s over, but it feels like he really has done everything he should have. That was the last thing he had to take care of, and now he knows that wherever they’re going it’s a new start for all of them. He wonders, as he sits next to Juliet because she motioned for him to (and it was nice of her, it really was) if when the light pouring from the open door will bring them to another island, maybe like the one they crashed on but less crazy. Or if it’ll be a whole other place altogether. Then he locks eyes with John, who’s sitting on the other side but on the same row of seats, and he nods in his direction before the white light absorbs everything, and as he does he’s sure that whatever happens, they will all be alright. They found each other once, they’ll stick together now, and frankly, he can’t wait. He doesn’t mind being one of the few on his own (in theory, because in practice he isn’t), he feels like he has finally done something great and actually done it right all the way, he doesn’t have any regrets; it might have taken him a lot of time to get here, but it really doesn’t matter now.
The only thing he’s sure of, is that he’s looking forward to everything that is in store for him.
He doesn’t have an idea of what it is, but he kind of can’t wait to find out. And so he lets the light swallow him and thinks, I’m ready.
End.