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ciirceeI must say, disabling comments is very freeing. I don't feel the need to write a 'whole story'. I can write scenes, bits and pieces, and whatever else I want and not have to worry about 'm0re plz!' or 'um, you forgot the beginning so I didn't understand it'. Not that I don't write beginnings and middles and ends, because I do, but it's nice to not feel forced beyond what I've got. I don't have to stress out over plausibility if I don't want to. It makes it fun again, I guess.
So, in celebration, I bring you even more Lost fic! Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know...it's just what you wanted. Don't worry. I've got a little CCS cooking (just a taste, mind!) and some other stuff. I'm just really tired right now and I can't think. Oh. Un-beta'd. I'll go over this again when I've had some sleep and fix anything that I think needs fixing. I just wanted to post this before tonight's episode.
Disclaimer: ABC and the creators of Lost own lots and lots of this stuff. I don’t. They make lots and lots of money for writing this stuff. I don’t make any.
Note: Written before ‘Confidence Man’, but with the spoiler-y ‘on the next episode of Lost!’ bits firmly in mind.
Spoilers: Maybe for ‘Confidence Man’…but nothing more than we’ve already seen thanks to the episode teaser.
Underworld
“Here. I’m sorry.”
The words, and the feel of a cup pressing against his lips, forced Sawyer out of the shadow land of near-sleep. He objected to the full return of the pain, but drank the water the pregnant girl was offering him. It took him a while to think past the burn of sand chafing into broken skin, but eventually he pushed the cup away and frowned. “I’m shocked that doc let you in here, Peaches. Thought he’d rather have a heart attack before he’d let somebody decent near me.”
“He probably would do, if he knew either of us was here,” said a voice from the edge of the tent. Sawyer twisted, just enough to really hurt, and saw Charlie peering furtively out the gap.
“Jitters,” he sighed in resignation. “What have I done to deserve the honor?”
Disconcertingly, Charlie smiled at him. “Nothing, mate.” He crossed the tent and crouched down next to Claire. Sawyer hated to admit it, but he appreciated the gesture; it saved him some pain and spared his reserves. He had a feeling he’d need the energy later, when Omar and the doctor came back to him.
He didn’t want to ask and fate must have been feeling some pity for him because he didn’t have to. “We came to check up on you,” Claire told him, using a bit of old shirt to wipe his chin where the water had trickled down. “We didn’t know if anybody on the beach would bother.”
“I’m surprised Jitters let you walk all that way,” Sawyer said, attempting his old cockiness. Surprisingly, Claire turned a sunny smile on him and then on Charlie.
Charlie smiled back at her and then took a drink of water himself, either not seeing or simply not caring about Sawyers half-hearted glare. “Actually, it was my idea to bring her,” he told him. “I though she’d be better at the nursing-mothering thing than, say, me.” He shrugged. “Thought you might not let a bloke help you out. Pride. Figured you’d take it from a mum-to-be.”
“Instead of a junkie,” Sawyer muttered. He expected a glare, from either of them, but just got another shrug from Charlie. “If you’re so worried, why not talk to the head-hunters out there?”
“Already tried. Funny thing, it seems they thought about that whole ‘junkie’ thing too.”
They sat quietly for a minute, listening to the muted voices beyond the plastic and canvas walls of the tent. “It’s not fair,” Claire burst out, breaking the silence. “It doesn’t have to be like this!”
“You sound just like dear, old Freckles,” Sawyer said. He was oddly touched by her concern.
Charlie was smoothing his hand over the bare skin of her shoulder, making soothing noises. After a moment he looked at Sawyer and Sawyer had the unnerving feeling that in that instant, Charlie could see right through him. “It does have to be this way,” Charlie said, his voice calm and serious. “Sometimes you have to hurt and struggle to become strong.”
“Oh, so glad you think that I deserve this,” Sawyer snapped, irritated beyond belief.
At the same time Claire’s mouth dropped open in incredulity. “He hasn’t done anything!”
“Not him!” Charlie said hurriedly his voice was normal again, Sawyer was glad to note, instead preternaturally solemn. “I meant us, everybody! I mean,” he was gesturing madly and Sawyer was glad that he was lying down and was out of harm’s way. “Jack and Sayid are going to have to carry this around with them and they’re always going to think twice from now on. And, and everybody else, we’re all going to be careful too. We’re not going to point fingers or just assume anything because of this. We’re going to be better to each other because when we’re not, innocent people get hurt.”
“How do you know I’m innocent?” Sawyer drawled, masking interest with sarcasm. He was curious; nobody else seemed to think he was innocent. Even Kate assumed he had the stupid inhalers.
Claire and Charlie were exchanging another glance. Sawyer would have been sickened by the sweetness of it if it weren’t for the fact that he was a closet romantic. And the sight of their easy affection quieted the memories of all the horrible things he’d seen.
“Because you’re a good man,” Claire said, “even if you don’t act like it. I saw you help Michael. You didn’t hesitate. I don’t think you even thought about it before you started running.”
“And you’ve never tried to hide anything,” Charlie added. “You might have been a bit ghoulish raiding the fuselage, but you didn’t lie about it. You’ve always played us straight, even when you were acting a right bastard.”
“You don’t have those inhalers,” they said together.
Sawyer sighed and relaxed for the first time since Jack had come at him. “Well, ain’t that touching. You found me out.”
Claire smiled then jerked her head around to stare at the closed tent flap.
“That’s Jack,” Charlie said, hushed. Sawyer tried to focus past the noise of the ocean and realized that some of those muted voices weren’t so muted. “Come on, we’ve got to go,” he said, helping Claire to her feet.
“Water glass,” Sawyer reminded them, wishing that they could stay and stave off the inevitable for a little while longer. “I’m not sure there’s enough tar and feathers to go around.”
Charlie snorted in amusement and Claire let out a breathless huff of laughter as she snagged the empty plastic cup. Her face sobered as she met his eyes. “We’re going to keep trying,” she said softly. “We’re going to put a stop to this.”
“Come on,” Charlie pushed the tarp aside, showing a brief glimpse of cool green trees and warm blue sky. Claire exited with a backward glance, and Sawyer thought he could see the faint shine of tears in her eyes. Charlie looked at him for a long moment in which Sawyer could hear Jack’s voice getting clearer and closer. “Hang in there, mate,” Charlie said at last, nodding his head. “You’ll make it.”
He disappeared with a swish of fabric just as the other side of the tent whipped open. Sawyer smiled genially at both Jack and Sayid. “Well, well, well, Doctor Feel-Good and Captain Falafel. And here I thought that I might be getting a well-wisher or a candy striper. Guess I gussied myself up for nothing.”
So, in celebration, I bring you even more Lost fic! Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know...it's just what you wanted. Don't worry. I've got a little CCS cooking (just a taste, mind!) and some other stuff. I'm just really tired right now and I can't think. Oh. Un-beta'd. I'll go over this again when I've had some sleep and fix anything that I think needs fixing. I just wanted to post this before tonight's episode.
Disclaimer: ABC and the creators of Lost own lots and lots of this stuff. I don’t. They make lots and lots of money for writing this stuff. I don’t make any.
Note: Written before ‘Confidence Man’, but with the spoiler-y ‘on the next episode of Lost!’ bits firmly in mind.
Spoilers: Maybe for ‘Confidence Man’…but nothing more than we’ve already seen thanks to the episode teaser.
Underworld
“Here. I’m sorry.”
The words, and the feel of a cup pressing against his lips, forced Sawyer out of the shadow land of near-sleep. He objected to the full return of the pain, but drank the water the pregnant girl was offering him. It took him a while to think past the burn of sand chafing into broken skin, but eventually he pushed the cup away and frowned. “I’m shocked that doc let you in here, Peaches. Thought he’d rather have a heart attack before he’d let somebody decent near me.”
“He probably would do, if he knew either of us was here,” said a voice from the edge of the tent. Sawyer twisted, just enough to really hurt, and saw Charlie peering furtively out the gap.
“Jitters,” he sighed in resignation. “What have I done to deserve the honor?”
Disconcertingly, Charlie smiled at him. “Nothing, mate.” He crossed the tent and crouched down next to Claire. Sawyer hated to admit it, but he appreciated the gesture; it saved him some pain and spared his reserves. He had a feeling he’d need the energy later, when Omar and the doctor came back to him.
He didn’t want to ask and fate must have been feeling some pity for him because he didn’t have to. “We came to check up on you,” Claire told him, using a bit of old shirt to wipe his chin where the water had trickled down. “We didn’t know if anybody on the beach would bother.”
“I’m surprised Jitters let you walk all that way,” Sawyer said, attempting his old cockiness. Surprisingly, Claire turned a sunny smile on him and then on Charlie.
Charlie smiled back at her and then took a drink of water himself, either not seeing or simply not caring about Sawyers half-hearted glare. “Actually, it was my idea to bring her,” he told him. “I though she’d be better at the nursing-mothering thing than, say, me.” He shrugged. “Thought you might not let a bloke help you out. Pride. Figured you’d take it from a mum-to-be.”
“Instead of a junkie,” Sawyer muttered. He expected a glare, from either of them, but just got another shrug from Charlie. “If you’re so worried, why not talk to the head-hunters out there?”
“Already tried. Funny thing, it seems they thought about that whole ‘junkie’ thing too.”
They sat quietly for a minute, listening to the muted voices beyond the plastic and canvas walls of the tent. “It’s not fair,” Claire burst out, breaking the silence. “It doesn’t have to be like this!”
“You sound just like dear, old Freckles,” Sawyer said. He was oddly touched by her concern.
Charlie was smoothing his hand over the bare skin of her shoulder, making soothing noises. After a moment he looked at Sawyer and Sawyer had the unnerving feeling that in that instant, Charlie could see right through him. “It does have to be this way,” Charlie said, his voice calm and serious. “Sometimes you have to hurt and struggle to become strong.”
“Oh, so glad you think that I deserve this,” Sawyer snapped, irritated beyond belief.
At the same time Claire’s mouth dropped open in incredulity. “He hasn’t done anything!”
“Not him!” Charlie said hurriedly his voice was normal again, Sawyer was glad to note, instead preternaturally solemn. “I meant us, everybody! I mean,” he was gesturing madly and Sawyer was glad that he was lying down and was out of harm’s way. “Jack and Sayid are going to have to carry this around with them and they’re always going to think twice from now on. And, and everybody else, we’re all going to be careful too. We’re not going to point fingers or just assume anything because of this. We’re going to be better to each other because when we’re not, innocent people get hurt.”
“How do you know I’m innocent?” Sawyer drawled, masking interest with sarcasm. He was curious; nobody else seemed to think he was innocent. Even Kate assumed he had the stupid inhalers.
Claire and Charlie were exchanging another glance. Sawyer would have been sickened by the sweetness of it if it weren’t for the fact that he was a closet romantic. And the sight of their easy affection quieted the memories of all the horrible things he’d seen.
“Because you’re a good man,” Claire said, “even if you don’t act like it. I saw you help Michael. You didn’t hesitate. I don’t think you even thought about it before you started running.”
“And you’ve never tried to hide anything,” Charlie added. “You might have been a bit ghoulish raiding the fuselage, but you didn’t lie about it. You’ve always played us straight, even when you were acting a right bastard.”
“You don’t have those inhalers,” they said together.
Sawyer sighed and relaxed for the first time since Jack had come at him. “Well, ain’t that touching. You found me out.”
Claire smiled then jerked her head around to stare at the closed tent flap.
“That’s Jack,” Charlie said, hushed. Sawyer tried to focus past the noise of the ocean and realized that some of those muted voices weren’t so muted. “Come on, we’ve got to go,” he said, helping Claire to her feet.
“Water glass,” Sawyer reminded them, wishing that they could stay and stave off the inevitable for a little while longer. “I’m not sure there’s enough tar and feathers to go around.”
Charlie snorted in amusement and Claire let out a breathless huff of laughter as she snagged the empty plastic cup. Her face sobered as she met his eyes. “We’re going to keep trying,” she said softly. “We’re going to put a stop to this.”
“Come on,” Charlie pushed the tarp aside, showing a brief glimpse of cool green trees and warm blue sky. Claire exited with a backward glance, and Sawyer thought he could see the faint shine of tears in her eyes. Charlie looked at him for a long moment in which Sawyer could hear Jack’s voice getting clearer and closer. “Hang in there, mate,” Charlie said at last, nodding his head. “You’ll make it.”
He disappeared with a swish of fabric just as the other side of the tent whipped open. Sawyer smiled genially at both Jack and Sayid. “Well, well, well, Doctor Feel-Good and Captain Falafel. And here I thought that I might be getting a well-wisher or a candy striper. Guess I gussied myself up for nothing.”
