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janie_tangerineWell, I had the epiphany while correcting drafts for my father. And I needed to fic that scene, sooner or later. And I need to use my new icon.
Title: A Current Under Sea
Rating: PG really
Characters: Boone, veeery faint Jack/Boone undertones
Word counting: 963
Disclaimer: Well, it happened. But Lost isn't mine anyway.
Spoilers: For White Rabbit, aka no spoilers.
Summary: He doesn’t really feel it when a stronger wave comes upon him and makes him lose all of his balance. Suddenly, he feels salt in his mouth and in his eyes and he has to stop swimming, struggling to catch a breath.
A/N: won third place at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
lostfichallenge #79 , water; also for un_love_you #22, I hate myself. The title is sort of stolen from T. S. Eliot because I couldn't find one and if I think water I think death by water. Nothing that wasn't seen on the episode but well, I was bound to end there sooner or later.
Boone doesn’t really have a doubt about what he’s doing when he dives in as soon as he hears the screams.
He doesn’t recognize the voice, even if he’s sure he has talked to her maybe yesterday or the day before; anyway, the woman is obviously in danger, no one is around and he hasn’t spent two summers being a lifeguard for nothing.
He’s out of his shoes and shirt in maybe five seconds, then there’s a moment in which the cold water hits his skin and he shivers, but as soon as he starts to swim, stroke after stroke, the feeling is gone. He still hears her screaming; she’s quite far, for what he sees, but that’s fine. He can get there.
The sea is pretty heavy, though. As soon as the first anomalous wave hits him, he gets an idea of why the woman is in danger; a wave such as that could become a problem if one isn’t a really good swimmer.
He keeps on going straight; he thinks he’s about halfway. Good. Another minute maybe and he’ll get to her. She just needs to hang on a little while and then...
He doesn’t really feel it when a stronger wave comes upon him and makes him lose all of his balance. Suddenly, he feels salt in his mouth and in his eyes and he has to stop swimming, struggling to catch a breath.
Big mistake, he thinks when an even stronger wave follows the first one and he finds himself underwater, his head pounding, salt everywhere; he tries to swim back up but his limbs won’t cooperate, he opens his eyes and all he sees is a blur tinted in a light aquamarine color. He opens his lips and just water comes in, he feels like he’s suffocating and that’s it, he thinks, I’m just sorry I couldn’t save her, but as he closes his eyes there’s an arm around his waist, cold skin against his back and suddenly he’s out.
He breathes for a second; the blinding sunlight makes him feel dizzy, confused. He only feels that strong arm still hooked around his waist, keeping him still; he realizes it’s Jack only when he hears his voice.
“You’re okay, just take deep breaths now. Come on, just breathe, just breathe.”
And Boone would do it, would gladly do it, but no, he can’t. She’s still out there.
“Did you get her?” he manages to say. God, his throat hurts.
“What?”
Oh, fuck.
“There was a woman...”
Another wave hits them and Jack pulls him nearer.
“I was trying to... did you get her?”
He knows Jack didn’t the second he hears her screaming.
Oh, fuck.
“You gotta go back,” he says, and he’s convinced. Jack pulled him out, he can make it back. He can, really, Jack just has to go to her and...
Jack is swimming back towards the beach, the idiot, when he has just told him that he has to go get her and he’d scream at Jack if only he didn’t feel so worn out, the water wasn’t so cold and Jack’s arm so warm and real and there.
He’s barely conscious when he hits the sand and someone helps him out.
He’s completely conscious when he finds out she’s dead.
Then he just lashes at Jack and Jack of course firstly is annoyed and then just ignores him, like it was any news whatsoever. Then he thinks about what he just told him and wonders if he’ll ever learn to shut up when he has to. He hasn’t even thought about what he was going to say and well, he should have thanked Jack. Or anything else, but not that.
Good, he thinks, here comes your second time in which you end up looking like a perfect fool in six days. Now it’s something to be proud of.
He sits again on the beach, looking out at the sea. It’s calm now, the water is just pure and blue and clear and he can’t believe that he was dying there three hours ago.
And he couldn’t save her. Again. He was doing that CPR wrong six days ago and she’s drowned thanks to him now. And all he can think about is how good Jack’s arm felt against his waist.
He tries to stop the train of thought, he tries hard because it’s stupid and really not what he should think about, but he can’t avoid it. He still feels that strong grip on his skin, Jack’s chest against his back, his fingers hooked around Boone’s hip and just how warm he had felt in contrast with that cold water.
He can’t help it. He hates Jack for having come to save the day (as usual) and because now Boone looks like the damsel in distress (as usual) in the worst case or pathetic in the best (as usual); he hates Jack because he just won’t leave his head (as usual, at least during the last week), and he hates himself more than he hates Jack because he knows that he was in the wrong, this time (but then again, as usual since it never looks like he’s right).
He stands up, brushing sand off his trousers. Maybe if he finds some other way to be helpful, possibly a less dangerous one, the others will forget this episode soon.
The others, because he’s honest enough with himself to realize that he isn’t ever forgetting this. Not as soon as he’d wish anyway.
His feet burn because he’s walking on the sand without shoes; but in comparison to the way his hip internally burns where Jack touched it, they feel as cold as the ocean felt when the water made contact with his skin.
End.
Title: A Current Under Sea
Rating: PG really
Characters: Boone, veeery faint Jack/Boone undertones
Word counting: 963
Disclaimer: Well, it happened. But Lost isn't mine anyway.
Spoilers: For White Rabbit, aka no spoilers.
Summary: He doesn’t really feel it when a stronger wave comes upon him and makes him lose all of his balance. Suddenly, he feels salt in his mouth and in his eyes and he has to stop swimming, struggling to catch a breath.
A/N: won third place at
lostfichallenge #79 , water; also for un_love_you #22, I hate myself. The title is sort of stolen from T. S. Eliot because I couldn't find one and if I think water I think death by water. Nothing that wasn't seen on the episode but well, I was bound to end there sooner or later.Boone doesn’t really have a doubt about what he’s doing when he dives in as soon as he hears the screams.
He doesn’t recognize the voice, even if he’s sure he has talked to her maybe yesterday or the day before; anyway, the woman is obviously in danger, no one is around and he hasn’t spent two summers being a lifeguard for nothing.
He’s out of his shoes and shirt in maybe five seconds, then there’s a moment in which the cold water hits his skin and he shivers, but as soon as he starts to swim, stroke after stroke, the feeling is gone. He still hears her screaming; she’s quite far, for what he sees, but that’s fine. He can get there.
The sea is pretty heavy, though. As soon as the first anomalous wave hits him, he gets an idea of why the woman is in danger; a wave such as that could become a problem if one isn’t a really good swimmer.
He keeps on going straight; he thinks he’s about halfway. Good. Another minute maybe and he’ll get to her. She just needs to hang on a little while and then...
He doesn’t really feel it when a stronger wave comes upon him and makes him lose all of his balance. Suddenly, he feels salt in his mouth and in his eyes and he has to stop swimming, struggling to catch a breath.
Big mistake, he thinks when an even stronger wave follows the first one and he finds himself underwater, his head pounding, salt everywhere; he tries to swim back up but his limbs won’t cooperate, he opens his eyes and all he sees is a blur tinted in a light aquamarine color. He opens his lips and just water comes in, he feels like he’s suffocating and that’s it, he thinks, I’m just sorry I couldn’t save her, but as he closes his eyes there’s an arm around his waist, cold skin against his back and suddenly he’s out.
He breathes for a second; the blinding sunlight makes him feel dizzy, confused. He only feels that strong arm still hooked around his waist, keeping him still; he realizes it’s Jack only when he hears his voice.
“You’re okay, just take deep breaths now. Come on, just breathe, just breathe.”
And Boone would do it, would gladly do it, but no, he can’t. She’s still out there.
“Did you get her?” he manages to say. God, his throat hurts.
“What?”
Oh, fuck.
“There was a woman...”
Another wave hits them and Jack pulls him nearer.
“I was trying to... did you get her?”
He knows Jack didn’t the second he hears her screaming.
Oh, fuck.
“You gotta go back,” he says, and he’s convinced. Jack pulled him out, he can make it back. He can, really, Jack just has to go to her and...
Jack is swimming back towards the beach, the idiot, when he has just told him that he has to go get her and he’d scream at Jack if only he didn’t feel so worn out, the water wasn’t so cold and Jack’s arm so warm and real and there.
He’s barely conscious when he hits the sand and someone helps him out.
He’s completely conscious when he finds out she’s dead.
Then he just lashes at Jack and Jack of course firstly is annoyed and then just ignores him, like it was any news whatsoever. Then he thinks about what he just told him and wonders if he’ll ever learn to shut up when he has to. He hasn’t even thought about what he was going to say and well, he should have thanked Jack. Or anything else, but not that.
Good, he thinks, here comes your second time in which you end up looking like a perfect fool in six days. Now it’s something to be proud of.
He sits again on the beach, looking out at the sea. It’s calm now, the water is just pure and blue and clear and he can’t believe that he was dying there three hours ago.
And he couldn’t save her. Again. He was doing that CPR wrong six days ago and she’s drowned thanks to him now. And all he can think about is how good Jack’s arm felt against his waist.
He tries to stop the train of thought, he tries hard because it’s stupid and really not what he should think about, but he can’t avoid it. He still feels that strong grip on his skin, Jack’s chest against his back, his fingers hooked around Boone’s hip and just how warm he had felt in contrast with that cold water.
He can’t help it. He hates Jack for having come to save the day (as usual) and because now Boone looks like the damsel in distress (as usual) in the worst case or pathetic in the best (as usual); he hates Jack because he just won’t leave his head (as usual, at least during the last week), and he hates himself more than he hates Jack because he knows that he was in the wrong, this time (but then again, as usual since it never looks like he’s right).
He stands up, brushing sand off his trousers. Maybe if he finds some other way to be helpful, possibly a less dangerous one, the others will forget this episode soon.
The others, because he’s honest enough with himself to realize that he isn’t ever forgetting this. Not as soon as he’d wish anyway.
His feet burn because he’s walking on the sand without shoes; but in comparison to the way his hip internally burns where Jack touched it, they feel as cold as the ocean felt when the water made contact with his skin.
End.
