FIC: Last Rites 1/1; Seachange 1/1
Sep. 13th, 2005 09:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
astralisFicspammy today... I discovered a couple of Lost fics I wrote a while ago and forgot about.
TITLE: Last Rites
FANDOM: Lost
PAIRING: Jack/Kate
SPOILERS: Nothing major
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: Character death.
Because the headland where they'd buried Boone so many months ago was over-crowded with graves, Sayid and Michael dug Kate's grave on another hill overlooking the sea. When he saw it, Jack wondered if they'd chosen that one so Kate would be as alone in death as her life had once been.
He'd planned on digging the grave himself, he'd thought maybe it could detach him from the thought of her body. But then Jack couldn't let go of Kate (of course he couldn't) and so Sayid and Michael did it without mentioning it, without asking for permission or approval or even acceptance of their plans. Or maybe they did; there were long hours when Jack knew nothing but Kate's body cooling in his arms.
He can't deny the others their right to a funeral for Kate, though he wants nothing more than to bury her himself, alone, to have his last moments with her in peace.
But who could he fool with that? Kate died hours ago. And he had his last moments with her, because when he knew that this was it, he'd screamed at Sun and Sayid and Locke, sent them scurrying out of the tent and gathered Kate up, feeling her too-hot breath rasping against his cheek (like when they made love) and clutching her hand and trying to will her to be alive, trying to will Locke's island into giving him a miracle.
So Sun and Michael gently prise him away from Kate's body, and though he remembers the way it felt against his it's not the same anymore and he's empty as Sun tries to give him herbal tea and Sayid and Michael are loading Kate's body onto a stretcher. He insists on carrying it with them, and his voice is thick and no one argues. He covers Kate's body with a blanket, as though she was still alive and just sleeping, but this time he drapes it over her face and sterile blue separates Kate from the world. They are a silent procession up to the hilltop grave: Jack and Sayid, Claire and Sun as unlikely pallbearers and everyone else trailing along behind them. It was this way when they buried Boone, when they buried Tracey, when they buried Shannon, when they buried David, but this time Jack can't help feeling that it is the end of everything he's ever known.
She shouldn't be dead, Jack thinks, and stands beside her grave listening to heartfelt sentences which seem only platitudes in the face of his drowning grief. Shouldn't be dead. Appendicitis, of all things, appendicitis that wouldn't have killed her in the real world and shouldn't have killed her here. Sun keeps saying that it's not his fault; she's being saying that ever since it became clear that the operation, in which Jack had wielded one of Locke's knives and cut open the smooth white stomach of the woman he loved, had left her with an infection that became a ravaging, rampaging force that took over her body. Jack had heard Sayid and Locke murmuring outside the tent where Kate lay dying - talking about whether they should kill her, a word that once had no place or acceptance in Jack's lexicon. He'd tried to find the words to say that he hated this long slow painful death, hated it as a doctor and as a lover, but that he didn't have the strength to end her pain. They'd have done it, if he asked them, but for once he couldn't be heroic or noble, and he held her and kissed her damp forehead, whispering into her ear until she lay dead in his arms.
They all say it's not Jack's fault that Kate is lying in this hole above the ocean and they're piling dirt in on top of her. It's not Jack's fault, because he loved Kate and if he couldn't save her then there was truly no saving to be had. But he can't believe that, he wants to believe that this time love should have done it, that this time there should have been a miracle.
Locke marshalls the rest of the survivors. Michael has his arm around Walt, Sun clutches Jin's hand, Claire is crying, clinging desperately to Charlie and Aaron. Hurley walks apart from the rest, looking at the ground; Sayid's head is up and his eyes cool, as they've been ever since the day Shannon's beaten body was brought ashore by the tide before anyone really knew she was missing (and maybe it would have been easier if the Others had killed Kate like they'd killed Tracey and Shannon and David).
Even Sawyer has found tears, and maybe he's the only one who has any idea of the depth of the loss of Kate.
Jack watches them all go, back down the path to the camp, back to the strange reality of life on this island, in this situation, and then he sinks to his knees beside the fresh dirt of the grave. He sits there and stares out to sea and searches for so many ways this could have worked out differently.
***
Years later, when they've been on the island for twelve years and Kate has been buried for five, they are suddenly, unexpectedly, rescued and returned sharply to the real world. When he steps aboard the boat that takes them away from home, Jack has in his pocket a handful of dirt from Kate's grave and a small toy plane.
He takes nothing else from the island.
THE END
TITLE: Seachange
FANDOM: Lost
PAIRING: Jack/Kate
SPOILERS: Nothing major
RATING: PG
"I don't know who I am anymore," Jack whispers, staring at the sea, half-counting the waves that wash up on the shore.
Kate selects a small shell and throws it towards the ocean. It lands in the shallows and is gone. "And it scares you," she says softly, turning her head to offer him that captivating sort-of smile.
Jack nods, and wonders if he'd find himself again if he touched her skin and kissed her lips and pressed her body into the sand and felt her breathing under him.
Ten months. Ten months and three days and he's no longer the Jack Sheppard he once thought he knew. He lives in a strange world, built on and ordered by isolation and terror and he doesn't know where home is any more. He has no doubt that almost everyone he cares about knows Jack Sheppard is dead, dead like Kate Austin, like Shannon Rutherford, like Charlie Pace.
Death is a funny idea, a shifting concept, a strange range of meanings and thoughts and ideas.
Death means so many things now.
Kate's hand comes slowly towards him. Jack watches as it slides into his and squeezes, and only then does he feel the warmth of her skin. "Kate," he says, and squeezes back, connecting.
"You haven't lost yourself," she says, and her thumb brushes over the back of his hand. "You're changing. You told me just after the crash that we all died, we all got a chance to start over."
"Maybe I didn't want to start over," Jack says, and blinks, as the sea starts to blur.
"But you have. Maybe you're more Jack Sheppard now than you ever were before."
"Maybe," Jack whispers, and he looks sideways again. Kate's got her head propped up on her knees, her face turned towards him, her spare arm wrapped tightly around her legs. "When did you turn into a self-help manual?"
"When I was in a plane that crashed and landed on an unknown island in the Pacific," she says lightly, but Jack can see the meaning behind her eyes. Ten months and three days since that plane crashed, and in that time it's been Kate who provided his connection to sanity, to humanity, to himself. Sometimes he's not sure whether he loves her or hates her for her side of that bizarre bond, the one he never wanted, never asked for. Sometimes he's not sure whether he loves himself or hates himself for his part in it.
He closes the distance between them and rests his head on her shoulder. He feels her arms wrap around him and pull him close in a way no-one's held him since he was a child. Jack feels her head against his, and her curls against his cheek.
He says her name again, and when he can't help feeling grateful for the crash he feels like a traitor.
THE END
TITLE: Last Rites
FANDOM: Lost
PAIRING: Jack/Kate
SPOILERS: Nothing major
RATING: PG-13
WARNINGS: Character death.
Because the headland where they'd buried Boone so many months ago was over-crowded with graves, Sayid and Michael dug Kate's grave on another hill overlooking the sea. When he saw it, Jack wondered if they'd chosen that one so Kate would be as alone in death as her life had once been.
He'd planned on digging the grave himself, he'd thought maybe it could detach him from the thought of her body. But then Jack couldn't let go of Kate (of course he couldn't) and so Sayid and Michael did it without mentioning it, without asking for permission or approval or even acceptance of their plans. Or maybe they did; there were long hours when Jack knew nothing but Kate's body cooling in his arms.
He can't deny the others their right to a funeral for Kate, though he wants nothing more than to bury her himself, alone, to have his last moments with her in peace.
But who could he fool with that? Kate died hours ago. And he had his last moments with her, because when he knew that this was it, he'd screamed at Sun and Sayid and Locke, sent them scurrying out of the tent and gathered Kate up, feeling her too-hot breath rasping against his cheek (like when they made love) and clutching her hand and trying to will her to be alive, trying to will Locke's island into giving him a miracle.
So Sun and Michael gently prise him away from Kate's body, and though he remembers the way it felt against his it's not the same anymore and he's empty as Sun tries to give him herbal tea and Sayid and Michael are loading Kate's body onto a stretcher. He insists on carrying it with them, and his voice is thick and no one argues. He covers Kate's body with a blanket, as though she was still alive and just sleeping, but this time he drapes it over her face and sterile blue separates Kate from the world. They are a silent procession up to the hilltop grave: Jack and Sayid, Claire and Sun as unlikely pallbearers and everyone else trailing along behind them. It was this way when they buried Boone, when they buried Tracey, when they buried Shannon, when they buried David, but this time Jack can't help feeling that it is the end of everything he's ever known.
She shouldn't be dead, Jack thinks, and stands beside her grave listening to heartfelt sentences which seem only platitudes in the face of his drowning grief. Shouldn't be dead. Appendicitis, of all things, appendicitis that wouldn't have killed her in the real world and shouldn't have killed her here. Sun keeps saying that it's not his fault; she's being saying that ever since it became clear that the operation, in which Jack had wielded one of Locke's knives and cut open the smooth white stomach of the woman he loved, had left her with an infection that became a ravaging, rampaging force that took over her body. Jack had heard Sayid and Locke murmuring outside the tent where Kate lay dying - talking about whether they should kill her, a word that once had no place or acceptance in Jack's lexicon. He'd tried to find the words to say that he hated this long slow painful death, hated it as a doctor and as a lover, but that he didn't have the strength to end her pain. They'd have done it, if he asked them, but for once he couldn't be heroic or noble, and he held her and kissed her damp forehead, whispering into her ear until she lay dead in his arms.
They all say it's not Jack's fault that Kate is lying in this hole above the ocean and they're piling dirt in on top of her. It's not Jack's fault, because he loved Kate and if he couldn't save her then there was truly no saving to be had. But he can't believe that, he wants to believe that this time love should have done it, that this time there should have been a miracle.
Locke marshalls the rest of the survivors. Michael has his arm around Walt, Sun clutches Jin's hand, Claire is crying, clinging desperately to Charlie and Aaron. Hurley walks apart from the rest, looking at the ground; Sayid's head is up and his eyes cool, as they've been ever since the day Shannon's beaten body was brought ashore by the tide before anyone really knew she was missing (and maybe it would have been easier if the Others had killed Kate like they'd killed Tracey and Shannon and David).
Even Sawyer has found tears, and maybe he's the only one who has any idea of the depth of the loss of Kate.
Jack watches them all go, back down the path to the camp, back to the strange reality of life on this island, in this situation, and then he sinks to his knees beside the fresh dirt of the grave. He sits there and stares out to sea and searches for so many ways this could have worked out differently.
***
Years later, when they've been on the island for twelve years and Kate has been buried for five, they are suddenly, unexpectedly, rescued and returned sharply to the real world. When he steps aboard the boat that takes them away from home, Jack has in his pocket a handful of dirt from Kate's grave and a small toy plane.
He takes nothing else from the island.
THE END
TITLE: Seachange
FANDOM: Lost
PAIRING: Jack/Kate
SPOILERS: Nothing major
RATING: PG
"I don't know who I am anymore," Jack whispers, staring at the sea, half-counting the waves that wash up on the shore.
Kate selects a small shell and throws it towards the ocean. It lands in the shallows and is gone. "And it scares you," she says softly, turning her head to offer him that captivating sort-of smile.
Jack nods, and wonders if he'd find himself again if he touched her skin and kissed her lips and pressed her body into the sand and felt her breathing under him.
Ten months. Ten months and three days and he's no longer the Jack Sheppard he once thought he knew. He lives in a strange world, built on and ordered by isolation and terror and he doesn't know where home is any more. He has no doubt that almost everyone he cares about knows Jack Sheppard is dead, dead like Kate Austin, like Shannon Rutherford, like Charlie Pace.
Death is a funny idea, a shifting concept, a strange range of meanings and thoughts and ideas.
Death means so many things now.
Kate's hand comes slowly towards him. Jack watches as it slides into his and squeezes, and only then does he feel the warmth of her skin. "Kate," he says, and squeezes back, connecting.
"You haven't lost yourself," she says, and her thumb brushes over the back of his hand. "You're changing. You told me just after the crash that we all died, we all got a chance to start over."
"Maybe I didn't want to start over," Jack says, and blinks, as the sea starts to blur.
"But you have. Maybe you're more Jack Sheppard now than you ever were before."
"Maybe," Jack whispers, and he looks sideways again. Kate's got her head propped up on her knees, her face turned towards him, her spare arm wrapped tightly around her legs. "When did you turn into a self-help manual?"
"When I was in a plane that crashed and landed on an unknown island in the Pacific," she says lightly, but Jack can see the meaning behind her eyes. Ten months and three days since that plane crashed, and in that time it's been Kate who provided his connection to sanity, to humanity, to himself. Sometimes he's not sure whether he loves her or hates her for her side of that bizarre bond, the one he never wanted, never asked for. Sometimes he's not sure whether he loves himself or hates himself for his part in it.
He closes the distance between them and rests his head on her shoulder. He feels her arms wrap around him and pull him close in a way no-one's held him since he was a child. Jack feels her head against his, and her curls against his cheek.
He says her name again, and when he can't help feeling grateful for the crash he feels like a traitor.
THE END
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-09-12 10:10 pm (UTC)Especially the first one, although it makes me sad because, no Kate would be a travesty (even though she annoys me in the same way that all heroines, however unlikely, annoy me)
I'm wondering how it's going to be with this new character vying for Jack's affections in S2.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-13 04:31 am (UTC)I'm not really looking forward to the new character. There comes a point where love triangles just get stupid. I can live with Jack/Kate/Sawyer because that's entertaining, but I don't like the idea of this one.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-13 12:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-13 10:21 pm (UTC)And I'm glad you liked the fics. And thanks for the ff.net reviews, as well.
no subject
Date: 2005-09-15 12:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-09-15 10:13 pm (UTC)Actually, everyone's screwed up and angsty on that show. Except for maybe the dog.