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Joined: Dec 2005
Posts: 50,495
| mysticxf wrote another one shot. 
it takes place after the TTLG FF.
Quote:
He's too drunk to pick himself off the ground. He can feel maps shift under his heel when he tries and his right hand presses into the contents of a bottle of liquor seeping into the carpet. He barely scoffs, actually, he smiles and then he breaks into a laugh that echoes in the small apartment. Somewhere in his mind he knows he's lost it, but he doesn't have the strength to come back from where he is.
Boone sits on his couch and stares at him. He's clean shaven; hair done; dressed in dark slacks and a pristine white dress shirt and he sighs at Jack. He's been talking a while, talking so long Jack starts to talk back. Nonsense really. He's talking to a ghost after all, but somewhere between the Vodka and the guilt, the ghost becomes a person again and Jack strikes up a conversation.
"How's the weather?" He laughs, his hand coming up so that it brushes against his forehead as Boone points at a map spread out on the coffee table. Jack wants to apologize for not being able to save him, but Boone never listens, he treats the words as though there were nothing to apologize for and Jack never understands.
"They need you, Jack."
"Oh, **** off," Jack manages to grunt before turning his head. There's no anger in his voice, just annoyance. He closes his eyes, but he knows when they open, it'll just be someone else, someone new. Maybe his father will come back again to chastise him for failing.
Blame him for everything that's happened.
"Jack, this isn't like you, giving up." He knows without opening his eyes it's Ana. She's standing at his feet and she kicks him with a boot. He shouldn't feel it, he knows he shouldn't feel it, but he does. His foot shifts, the maps underneath rustle with the movement and he looks up at her.
Her hair is loose and she's got that sour look on her face, the one he'd hoped he could wipe away at some point. He shakes his head at her and he glances at his side, his hands searching for the bottle he'd tipped over because he knows it will still have liquor in it, but when he takes a drink she looks down at him in disgust.
" You have to go back."
He throws the bottle, but she's gone before it connects and he listens to it thump against the carpet before spinning to a stop under the coffee table, clinking against another empty bottle discarded in a similar manner the day before. Jack rubs his eyes and lets his hand slide down over his beard and he hears Charlie humming as he glances at old photos on the wall, newspaper clippings.
"I never figured you for an apartment guy," Charlie tells him, and the shift in topic is welcome.
Jack sits up, blinks a few times as he watches the other man throw himself onto the couch and fold his feet up on the coffee table, shifting more maps onto the ground. "Yeah well," he starts, but he can't find the words to finish and he glances back into the kitchen knowing there's more alcohol there. He wants to drink until he can't hear them anymore.
Letting his hands fall into his lap, Charlie laments, "Maybe I just got used to that tent on the beach." His eyes connect with Jack's and Jack already knows what's coming, closes his eyes against the words and he brings his hands up to his ears to block them out, but he can hear them anyways.
They need you, Jack. You have to go back.
He starts to sing to himself, some crazy old rock song he used to like when he was a teenager. Most of the words aren't even words anymore, just notes and mumbling, and he sings them loud enough to block out the traffic he can hear through the kitchen window and the whirring of a fan somewhere in his room. His eyes defy him, watering, and tears stream down his face as his mind starts to create scenarios.
Jack could die if he wanted.
He falls silent, eyes still closed; hands over his ears, but he can hear the footsteps approaching him and when he hears her voice call his name his eyes snap open. "No, not you," he moans, his face crumpling as he turns away. He's not even sure anymore he's awake anymore because he knows she's not a ghost, knows she shouldn't be because he'd seen her earlier in the day, watching from a distance, as she sat in a park lost in her thoughts.
"Jack," she repeats, a hand touching his knee and when he opens his eyes he sees she's slouched next to him, her hair wavy now – a drastic difference from earlier. He convinces himself she's an illusion because it's easier than dealing with the idea that she might be there seeing him like this.
"You're not really here," he informs her, shaking his head as he looks away. "Just a figment of my drunkenness."
"Jack," she says his name and it's a command for him to look at her, but he knows the tricks of her illusion.
He closes his eyes. "They don't need me. I'm not going back, Kate," he mumbles.
He hears her ragged intake of breath and he can hear Aaron calling for her somewhere in the distance, the worry in his voice evident. When he opens his eyes he can see everything he feels mirrored in hers and when she takes hold of his hand, there's a spark of life inside him that he hasn't felt in months, years even. He swallows, watching her turn and whisper, "Come inside, honey, close the door and lock it."
The boy is barely big enough to do what she asks, be he does it, pressing his back against the front door when he's done and he stares at Jack with large eyes as he mouths a name, a responsibility, which Jack knows he shouldn't have in this boy's mind.
"You shouldn't be here, Kate. He shouldn't see me…" he trails, throwing his hands up slightly, feeling his eyes tear up again as his hand slap back into his lap. He whispers, "I'm hallucinating."
Kate shakes her head at him.
He glances at Aaron and then back at Kate and he grits his teeth, speaking low enough for just her to hear. "I've been seeing people, people who are dead, it's like they're in my head and they're telling me I have work to do, telling me everyone we left behind, they need me." He cocks his head to the side, surprised that she's taking in his words with such calm, and he adds, "They're telling me go to back."
She nods and he's perplexed by it, but when she looks up at him she's pale as she swallows. "I met your father a year ago."
"My father," Jack repeats, his face contorting in confusion as he starts again, "He's de…"
"I know, Jack." Her eyes water just a bit and she nods again. "I thought I had lost my mind. He was in my living room playing with Aaron and he thanked me for taking care of him, but he told me this wasn't where we should be. Told me things would get worse. I didn't believe him at first, but Sayid went missing, then Hurley gets locked up, and Sun… she won't return my calls."
Jack watches her cry, brings a hand up into her thick wavy hair before cupping her cheek in his palm and he sees in the way she closes her eyes and melts into his touch that all the times she told him she wanted him to stay away, they were lies. She gives him a short nod and his hand drops away as she takes a deep breath.
"Sayid called me this morning. He said he knows how to get back. He's on a plane with Sun and the baby, on their way here and he wants everyone to get together tomorrow night. He says it has to be fast, before people find out."
Jack can see Aaron glancing slowly around the room before moving towards the maps on the coffee table and he starts to trace a path on the map before jabbing at a spot neither adult can see from where they sit. "Home, mommy," he informs them with a smile.
Kate laughs shortly, her eyes finding the ceiling before meeting Jack's again and she hides her grin back behind her sorrow and she whispers, "Jack, we need you… I need you; I can't leave without you."
Jack nods, forcing himself off the floor and she moves closer to him to help him keep his balance. He smiles at the thought because he'd never considered that she'd always been that for him, but looking back, it becomes obvious. His balance; his constant.
He feels her arm holding tight to his body as the room spin slightly and he knows the next few days are going to be difficult, but when he looks to Aaron as he points excitedly and then back at Kate who watched the boy she'd been raising as her own, he understands. As crazy as their journey had been, they'd been moving in the right direction until they got to this place and he knows the ghosts are right, despite the detour, they were destined to course correct.
To go back.
| __________________ Dear skauwn Santa,
I'd like to have an Avatar for Christmas.
Your little bitch, L.
|
What about you?
It makes me more excited than I already was! 
I love her fics and that one was amazing, so real 
, what up?
I'm all right hon. You? No news 
I'm #306
