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janie_tangerineSo, thing is, I realizes I'm this close to finish this damned table and while I'm not too enthusiast about this one, I didn't know what the hell to make out of that prompt (I mean, I tried with four different bunnies and there wasn't one that sounded right) and decided to go with it. And I'm pretty sure that the Charlie section is sort of not good. However.
Title: Your Own Personal Jesus (or five times in which Desmond was one)
Characters: Desmond, plus Locke, Sawyer, Charlie, Penny and Sayid
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Desmond isn't mine, Lost isn't mine and Personal Jesus belongs to Depeche Mode.
Word count: 3106
Spoilers: Up to 4x09.
Summary: Exactly what the title says.
A/N: for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
philosophy_20 #8, faith. The last section is not based on spoilers. I just speculated on what Ben did in 4x09. The idea definitely occurred while listening to that song in a completely random moment but apart from title, concept and section titles I didn't steal that much. Well, guess I stole much to begin with but whatever. I don't even know what I think of it myself. I only hope I didn't go OOC with anyone.
#1 When Locke was made (again) a believer
When he comes to his senses, he doesn’t open his eyes.
It’s just self-preservation instinct, after all, since coming to his senses doesn’t actually mean he’s still alive.
The last thing he remembers is Desmond saying he was going to see him in another life, then everything started to tremble, there was a blinding white light and he had lost his senses.
He opens and closes his fingers; his hand seemingly works. He feels grass, dirt and earth on the skin of his back, the shirt has to be ripped.
Everything happened because I lost my faith, he thinks, still keeping his eyes closed. He wonders what’s become of Charlie, Eko and Desmond.
Charlie and Eko could have made it. If when he opens his eyes he’s going to see what he hopes, it means he made it and if he did, they could.
He’s not so sure about Desmond. If the hatch exploded or whatever the hell happened, it started exactly from the point in which he was staying. It’d be a miracle if he still was alive, he thinks bitterly, realizing that it really is his fault. He has quite the kind of mess to clean up.
Locke opens his eyes and there’s a clear sky above his head. He turns it slightly; there’s grass, a light breeze is blowing. He’s on the island and he’s alive.
Then he hears a noise and he turns.
It’s nothing more than a flash, but Locke is sure that he saw Desmond running somewhere. Kind of naked, if he wasn’t imagining things, but he doesn’t think he is. He tries to call him but as he stands up, he finds out that his voice is gone. He tries again, but nothing comes out of his mouth.
Well, he reasons, it’s going to come back sooner or later. But now he’s sure that Desmond is alive and it’s a miracle, no doubt about it.
Locke smiles a bit before heading back to camp; it was all a question of faith and it’s a good sensation, to have his back. He needs to find out what he’s supposed to do now and he won’t doubt it again.
#2 When Sawyer had things on his chest he needed to confess
He lost that damned game with Hurley and he really doesn’t want anyone around him.
And when he says no one, he means it. Sawyer has been extremely clear about it; isn’t leave me the fuck alone, everyone of you as clear as it goes?
When Desmond approaches, he figures out it wasn’t clear enough, after all.
Then he finds out that Desmond has whiskey and that he wants to share it. Sawyer can’t even begin to imagine why the hell would he want to share whiskey and with him out of everyone, but he isn’t one not to look a gift-horse in the mouth and if drinking something better than Dharma beer means that he has to share his vital space with Desmond, fine. He’s probably the only person there who doesn’t know a thing about him anyway, hell, they’re total strangers for how Sawyer is concerned and the company of a total stranger doesn’t differ too much from being alone, right?
Right, though Sawyer soon finds out that it worked if they both stayed silent. Which isn’t really the case. Now, Desmond doesn’t talk that much, truth to be told, and it’s just random remarks on the lines of seems like it’s the kind of drink that appeals to you, brother, but it’s still enough to make his presence recognizable, which is exactly what Sawyer hopes to avoid. Nonetheless, he answers in monosyllables and the whiskey he has to share is good enough for such a price to pay. He’s drinking the most of it anyway, Desmond has barely took a few sips.
“You know what, brother?”
“What?”
“I think there’s really something you’re achin’ to spill out.”
Sawyer turns to him, bottle in hand, raising an eyebrow. Desmond looks absolutely calm and sure of what he said.
“The hell do you mean?”
“I mean that it seems to me like there’s somethin’ you need to talk ‘bout and that it won’t do you no good if you don’t do it.”
“And who the hell are you now, fucking Jung?”
Desmond laughs softly and shakes his head.
“Nay, I’m not that good, brother. But I’m quite decent at listening.”
“Well, thanks for the proposal but the case would be that I don’t need to talk to anyone ‘bout anythin’. Why would you care ‘bout it anyway?”
“Maybe I need to hear someone else’s problems, for a change.”
“Why, you’ve got problems now?”
Desmond laughs not so softly, this time.
“More than you imagine, brother.”
Sawyer shrugs and takes another drink. Like hell he’s going to talk about it, of everything. Though he figures that Desmond must be a pretty good observer or that he might have become too soft for his tastes, if it took the guy three hours to figure it out.
Desmond doesn’t say anything else and just stares ahead, almost drinking the sight of the sea; Sawyer doesn’t understand what the fuck can someone find in it, he’s come to hate all that water by now, but if Desmond likes it, fine for him.
Then Desmond says it’s alright if he finishes the bottle and Sawyer doesn’t let him repeat it two times; he drinks the last whiskey that was there and then throws it away somewhere.
“That was good.”
“I know.”, Desmond answers. Sawyer suspects that there’s more to it than Desmond is showing, but he lets it go.
He feels warm right now and kind of less angry than he was two hours ago. See, a good drink can make miracles, he thinks. It lasts three seconds and then his mind is back there and he takes his forehead between his hands. Fuck.
“Brother, are you alright?”
Sawyer knows that Desmond already knows the answer.
“What d’you think?”
“Nay, you aren’t alright.”
“Well, it was so fuckin’ easy you ain’t gonna win anything.”
“Are you sure that you don’t really want to spill it out?”
“Tomorrow all camp would know it.”
“Oh, really? Brother, I arrived here less than a week ago. D’you think I’m so at ease that I could go around gossipin’? ‘Cause you’re wrong, on that. I’m not one to tell other people’s facts around, anyway.”
“I should’ve gone with ‘em.”
“With John and...”
“Yes, yes, hell, with them. Not like they waited, anyway.”
“Are you really so eager to go back there?”
“Hell no. About the last place I'd ever wanna go. And I ain't feelin' awful for leavin'. We just did what Jack wanted us to. It’s just... oh, fuck, why am I even talkin’ ‘bout this in the first place?”
“You’re worried for your girl.”
Not a question.
“She ain’t my girl. Not by a long shot.”
“Seemed the contrary, to me.”
“Well, you were wrong. But I should’ve gone anyway.”
He knows it’s just stupid. There isn’t any reason for which he should have gone back there. But he feels like he should have done it at least out of respect for what Jack did for them and while he trusted Sayid with keeping control of the situation he just couldn’t help worrying. Even if she probably wasn’t even thinking about him right now.
He felt better though, having said it.
Desmond nods, smiles just slightly and opens his backpack, handing Sawyer a pack of Dharma Walnut Cookies, then stands up. Sawyer recognizes it immediately.
“This was in my stash!”
“Charlie and Hurley actually got that, but since... well, let’s say that Charlie was owin’ me a couple of excuses for a couple of things, he gave it to me. Guess you’ll have more use for it than I would. I hate bloody walnuts, anyway.”
Desmond leaves and Sawyer just turns his head to the sea, shrugs and gets himself a cookie. It tastes good. Better, it doesn’t taste nothing like fish and he’s damn grateful for it.
#3 When Charlie found that somebody else cared
It’s not that Charlie thinks that nobody cares. Far from the contrary. Hurley cares and there’s nothing to say about it. He wouldn’t know what he’d do, if Hurley wasn’t there. Jack cared. When he still was at camp or at the caves and there weren’t hatches and Others and stuff. Sayid cares, except that Sayid is barely around these days.
He knows that Claire cares, but he can’t shake the impression that she doesn’t care the way he wishes for her to. Sure, she does, sure she loves him some way, maybe not exactly the way he loves her, but she cares about him, indeed; it’s just that sometimes he thinks that what he feels for her and what she feels for him are two completely different matters, even if he tries not to think about it because well, he loves her.
He has to admit that Desmond is a whole other matter.
They haven’t known each other for two weeks but between them there’s already a connection which is strong. Way strong. Desmond keeps saving his life a time after another and Charlie still can’t quite link everything. Too much, too fast. But Desmond wouldn’t do it if he didn’t care about him, period; alright, maybe he’s got his good sense of duty, but this goes beyond sense of duty.
Charlie sometimes thinks that if it had to happen, he wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to get the flashes and it’s ridiculous, since there are way more people on this island he should know better and trust better. Things are like this though and he can’t really do anything to change them. He doesn’t actually feel safe, trusting Desmond or not trusting him; no one would, in those situations. But he knows, just knows that Desmond really cares and it’s enough. Even if he had to fail, one day, at least Charlie knows that he had tried hard.
#4 When Penny picked up the receiver
Already knowing he was alive should have been more than enough.
It meant that she hadn’t searched three years for a dead man and if she hadn’t felt the greatest relief of her life when she heard he was fine, well, in that case Penny doesn’t really know how to call it.
But knowing he was alive didn’t mean actually having proof and since the transmission ended that abruptly, Penny doesn’t know whether something happened. Something which doesn’t really have to be positive, all things considered.
Now she worries even more than she worried before and it’s just stupid. She knows it’s stupid, but she can’t help it.
She’s up in the loft when the phone rings. She curses whoever needs to call on Christmas Eve of all days and hurries down the stairs, almost falling. She doesn’t know why she’s actually running, she could walk and whoever it is could call later if it’s so urgent, but fact is, she runs.
She picks up the receiver at about the fifteenth ring, whoever it is was probably losing hope, then tries to sound cheerful because it’s always Christmas Eve.
“Hello?”
“Penny?”
I won't call for eight years. December 24, 2004. Christmas eve. I promise. Please, Pen.
Maybe she knows why she was running, now.
“Desmond?”, she asks, not believing what she’s saying herself.
“Penny... Answer, Penny.”
And it’s really his voice, it’s really him and no, this is the greatest relief she has ever felt all her life, she thinks while her heart’s rate of beating increases at a speed she wouldn’t have believed possible.
#5 When Sayid reached out and touched faith
He said he would do it, but he knows better.
There really wasn’t anything else he could tell Ben except yes, but if there’s someone Sayid is never going to kill, well, this is her.
As soon as he got the name, he understood why it was and well, he isn’t going to be the one to clean up Ben’s mess. Sure, he knows he wants to avenge his daughter, saying it just for the sake of clarity since she wasn’t even his daughter in the first place, but Sayid has realized that he was wrong in following his need for revenge in the first place. He knows he’s beyond every possible redemption right now and nothing he can do will ever lift the weight on his shoulders, but maybe if he stops here and now, he’d keep at least the loyalty to his friends which he recognizes as his only good quality right now.
He often wonders what would Nadia think of him now if she could see him, and maybe she can, but he knows that she’d be disgusted if he followed through with Ben’s order.
Which is why he’s going to Penelope Widmore’s house right now, a gun tucked in his jeans because Ben wanted him to do it as soon as he left his hotel room and made sure he was armed.
Sayid is going to her house, but he won’t use it, not on her. He will tell her that she’s in danger, who she needs to stay away from, he will fill her on the few details he knows of her father and Ben’s business, then he will leave and well, he won’t say he never thought of using that gun on himself, but he found out that it’s useless. So maybe he’ll just disappear somewhere, or maybe he’ll go back to Ben and accept that he definitely sold his soul. He won’t be able to refuse anything else if he does, but she will be safe and that’s what matters.
He couldn’t do it. Even if she wasn’t Desmond’s girl he couldn’t, and the fact that she is just puts a categoric imperative no on it.
It’s dark when he arrives on her doorstep. He doesn’t knock; he has long learned how to break open a lock.
It doesn’t take long and he steps in the dark hall; Ben told him everything, even where the stairs are and where her bedroom is.
He turns right and goes up the stairs. Second door on the left. He opens it, slowly, without making too much noise; but then he hears something, he can’t exactly place the sound but it was like someone moving. Well, time to do his job.
“Miss Widmore?”
“Guess it’s her lucky day, brother.”
Sayid suddenly stops dead in his tracks, a chill running down his spine; his hand slams against the wall, finding a switch.
He flips it and he can only notice two things. The bed is untouched and Desmond is standing in the corner.
His hair is shorter, he wears jeans and a white shirt, his skin is still tanned, he’s barefoot and Sayid thinks he must be seeing some kind of ghost because...
“You are on the island.”, he says, his voice trembling.
“That’s definitely not the case.”, he answers, smiling slightly. He doesn’t seem angry, but if he’s here and she isn’t...
“How is it even possible?”
“You can thank that Orchid station, brother. Took a while to learn what it could do, but seems it is.”
“You know why I am here, don’t you?”
Desmond’s expression suddenly becomes more serious and he takes a couple of steps in his direction.
“Aye. Aye, I do. That’s why she isn’t here. Her father knew someone’s was gonna go after her. She’s in a safe place. Not too far, but well, forgive me if I don’t share the information.”
Sayid nods, still too confused to do anything.
“No, I do not want to know it. Anyway, I did not come here in order to...”
“Sayid. I know.”
Sayid feels a lump form in his throat. Two words, but they hit like a punch.
“What..?”
“I know what you’re doing right now. But I also know you weren’t ever going to do such a thing.”
“How is that you are so sure I wouldn’t have?”
“If I say it’s a question of faith?”
“Are you saying you have some kind of faith in me?”
“Well, I never was wrong when I did, yeah?”
Sayid can’t look at him, he can’t anymore, not if he doesn’t want to feel even more ashamed than he actually is (and he’s rarely felt so ashamed in his whole life, truth to be told). He still thinks it’s an hallucination. It just can’t be; and if what Desmond says should make him feel better, it just stresses how low he has fallen.
“You probably shouldn’t now.”
“I beg to differ.”
“You don’t know.”
“I think I do, brother. I think I just do.”
“And what do you know?”
“If I said that a couple of months ago you were in Berlin goin’ to the opera with a pretty miss named Elsa what would you say?”
Sayid raises his head slowly. Desmond’s expression is just unreadable and well, he knows. Sayid can’t even begin to ask himself why, but he does and he doesn’t know whether he’s relieved for it or not.
“And you still say you have faith in me?”, he asks, his voice less steady than he’d like.
“Aye, and I’m also sayin’ that you could definitely use some, brother. You know, it never is too late to change idea.”
“What? Desmond, I think I should go. I really should not be here, he would find out and..:”
“So you want to go back there? Well, brother, that isn’t much wise, yeah?”
“What else is for me to do?”
“There is much for you to do.”
“There isn’t.”
“You know, I’m here, but they need you. All of them, of us, whatever, need all of you who left. And you're included.”
“I can’t do anything. Not like this.”
“No one says you have to go back there, Sayid.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“Well, brother, I hope you didn’t forget that once we weren’t that bad of a team.”
Sayid laughs at it, he has to, he just can’t not.
“I did not, but should I really get into this on blind faith only? It is not like you are being much clear about it.”
“Oh, I will, soon. But I think you should just go for it.”
Desmond just extends a hand towards him and Sayid doesn’t really think about what he’s doing when he takes it and he’s pulled into an embrace.
He hangs on to Desmond’s shoulders maybe a bit stronger than necessary but then Desmond does the same and Sayid just closes his eyes and realizes that maybe he really can still do something.
End.
Title: Your Own Personal Jesus (or five times in which Desmond was one)
Characters: Desmond, plus Locke, Sawyer, Charlie, Penny and Sayid
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Desmond isn't mine, Lost isn't mine and Personal Jesus belongs to Depeche Mode.
Word count: 3106
Spoilers: Up to 4x09.
Summary: Exactly what the title says.
A/N: for
philosophy_20 #8, faith. The last section is not based on spoilers. I just speculated on what Ben did in 4x09. The idea definitely occurred while listening to that song in a completely random moment but apart from title, concept and section titles I didn't steal that much. Well, guess I stole much to begin with but whatever. I don't even know what I think of it myself. I only hope I didn't go OOC with anyone.#1 When Locke was made (again) a believer
When he comes to his senses, he doesn’t open his eyes.
It’s just self-preservation instinct, after all, since coming to his senses doesn’t actually mean he’s still alive.
The last thing he remembers is Desmond saying he was going to see him in another life, then everything started to tremble, there was a blinding white light and he had lost his senses.
He opens and closes his fingers; his hand seemingly works. He feels grass, dirt and earth on the skin of his back, the shirt has to be ripped.
Everything happened because I lost my faith, he thinks, still keeping his eyes closed. He wonders what’s become of Charlie, Eko and Desmond.
Charlie and Eko could have made it. If when he opens his eyes he’s going to see what he hopes, it means he made it and if he did, they could.
He’s not so sure about Desmond. If the hatch exploded or whatever the hell happened, it started exactly from the point in which he was staying. It’d be a miracle if he still was alive, he thinks bitterly, realizing that it really is his fault. He has quite the kind of mess to clean up.
Locke opens his eyes and there’s a clear sky above his head. He turns it slightly; there’s grass, a light breeze is blowing. He’s on the island and he’s alive.
Then he hears a noise and he turns.
It’s nothing more than a flash, but Locke is sure that he saw Desmond running somewhere. Kind of naked, if he wasn’t imagining things, but he doesn’t think he is. He tries to call him but as he stands up, he finds out that his voice is gone. He tries again, but nothing comes out of his mouth.
Well, he reasons, it’s going to come back sooner or later. But now he’s sure that Desmond is alive and it’s a miracle, no doubt about it.
Locke smiles a bit before heading back to camp; it was all a question of faith and it’s a good sensation, to have his back. He needs to find out what he’s supposed to do now and he won’t doubt it again.
#2 When Sawyer had things on his chest he needed to confess
He lost that damned game with Hurley and he really doesn’t want anyone around him.
And when he says no one, he means it. Sawyer has been extremely clear about it; isn’t leave me the fuck alone, everyone of you as clear as it goes?
When Desmond approaches, he figures out it wasn’t clear enough, after all.
Then he finds out that Desmond has whiskey and that he wants to share it. Sawyer can’t even begin to imagine why the hell would he want to share whiskey and with him out of everyone, but he isn’t one not to look a gift-horse in the mouth and if drinking something better than Dharma beer means that he has to share his vital space with Desmond, fine. He’s probably the only person there who doesn’t know a thing about him anyway, hell, they’re total strangers for how Sawyer is concerned and the company of a total stranger doesn’t differ too much from being alone, right?
Right, though Sawyer soon finds out that it worked if they both stayed silent. Which isn’t really the case. Now, Desmond doesn’t talk that much, truth to be told, and it’s just random remarks on the lines of seems like it’s the kind of drink that appeals to you, brother, but it’s still enough to make his presence recognizable, which is exactly what Sawyer hopes to avoid. Nonetheless, he answers in monosyllables and the whiskey he has to share is good enough for such a price to pay. He’s drinking the most of it anyway, Desmond has barely took a few sips.
“You know what, brother?”
“What?”
“I think there’s really something you’re achin’ to spill out.”
Sawyer turns to him, bottle in hand, raising an eyebrow. Desmond looks absolutely calm and sure of what he said.
“The hell do you mean?”
“I mean that it seems to me like there’s somethin’ you need to talk ‘bout and that it won’t do you no good if you don’t do it.”
“And who the hell are you now, fucking Jung?”
Desmond laughs softly and shakes his head.
“Nay, I’m not that good, brother. But I’m quite decent at listening.”
“Well, thanks for the proposal but the case would be that I don’t need to talk to anyone ‘bout anythin’. Why would you care ‘bout it anyway?”
“Maybe I need to hear someone else’s problems, for a change.”
“Why, you’ve got problems now?”
Desmond laughs not so softly, this time.
“More than you imagine, brother.”
Sawyer shrugs and takes another drink. Like hell he’s going to talk about it, of everything. Though he figures that Desmond must be a pretty good observer or that he might have become too soft for his tastes, if it took the guy three hours to figure it out.
Desmond doesn’t say anything else and just stares ahead, almost drinking the sight of the sea; Sawyer doesn’t understand what the fuck can someone find in it, he’s come to hate all that water by now, but if Desmond likes it, fine for him.
Then Desmond says it’s alright if he finishes the bottle and Sawyer doesn’t let him repeat it two times; he drinks the last whiskey that was there and then throws it away somewhere.
“That was good.”
“I know.”, Desmond answers. Sawyer suspects that there’s more to it than Desmond is showing, but he lets it go.
He feels warm right now and kind of less angry than he was two hours ago. See, a good drink can make miracles, he thinks. It lasts three seconds and then his mind is back there and he takes his forehead between his hands. Fuck.
“Brother, are you alright?”
Sawyer knows that Desmond already knows the answer.
“What d’you think?”
“Nay, you aren’t alright.”
“Well, it was so fuckin’ easy you ain’t gonna win anything.”
“Are you sure that you don’t really want to spill it out?”
“Tomorrow all camp would know it.”
“Oh, really? Brother, I arrived here less than a week ago. D’you think I’m so at ease that I could go around gossipin’? ‘Cause you’re wrong, on that. I’m not one to tell other people’s facts around, anyway.”
“I should’ve gone with ‘em.”
“With John and...”
“Yes, yes, hell, with them. Not like they waited, anyway.”
“Are you really so eager to go back there?”
“Hell no. About the last place I'd ever wanna go. And I ain't feelin' awful for leavin'. We just did what Jack wanted us to. It’s just... oh, fuck, why am I even talkin’ ‘bout this in the first place?”
“You’re worried for your girl.”
Not a question.
“She ain’t my girl. Not by a long shot.”
“Seemed the contrary, to me.”
“Well, you were wrong. But I should’ve gone anyway.”
He knows it’s just stupid. There isn’t any reason for which he should have gone back there. But he feels like he should have done it at least out of respect for what Jack did for them and while he trusted Sayid with keeping control of the situation he just couldn’t help worrying. Even if she probably wasn’t even thinking about him right now.
He felt better though, having said it.
Desmond nods, smiles just slightly and opens his backpack, handing Sawyer a pack of Dharma Walnut Cookies, then stands up. Sawyer recognizes it immediately.
“This was in my stash!”
“Charlie and Hurley actually got that, but since... well, let’s say that Charlie was owin’ me a couple of excuses for a couple of things, he gave it to me. Guess you’ll have more use for it than I would. I hate bloody walnuts, anyway.”
Desmond leaves and Sawyer just turns his head to the sea, shrugs and gets himself a cookie. It tastes good. Better, it doesn’t taste nothing like fish and he’s damn grateful for it.
#3 When Charlie found that somebody else cared
It’s not that Charlie thinks that nobody cares. Far from the contrary. Hurley cares and there’s nothing to say about it. He wouldn’t know what he’d do, if Hurley wasn’t there. Jack cared. When he still was at camp or at the caves and there weren’t hatches and Others and stuff. Sayid cares, except that Sayid is barely around these days.
He knows that Claire cares, but he can’t shake the impression that she doesn’t care the way he wishes for her to. Sure, she does, sure she loves him some way, maybe not exactly the way he loves her, but she cares about him, indeed; it’s just that sometimes he thinks that what he feels for her and what she feels for him are two completely different matters, even if he tries not to think about it because well, he loves her.
He has to admit that Desmond is a whole other matter.
They haven’t known each other for two weeks but between them there’s already a connection which is strong. Way strong. Desmond keeps saving his life a time after another and Charlie still can’t quite link everything. Too much, too fast. But Desmond wouldn’t do it if he didn’t care about him, period; alright, maybe he’s got his good sense of duty, but this goes beyond sense of duty.
Charlie sometimes thinks that if it had to happen, he wouldn’t have wanted anyone else to get the flashes and it’s ridiculous, since there are way more people on this island he should know better and trust better. Things are like this though and he can’t really do anything to change them. He doesn’t actually feel safe, trusting Desmond or not trusting him; no one would, in those situations. But he knows, just knows that Desmond really cares and it’s enough. Even if he had to fail, one day, at least Charlie knows that he had tried hard.
#4 When Penny picked up the receiver
Already knowing he was alive should have been more than enough.
It meant that she hadn’t searched three years for a dead man and if she hadn’t felt the greatest relief of her life when she heard he was fine, well, in that case Penny doesn’t really know how to call it.
But knowing he was alive didn’t mean actually having proof and since the transmission ended that abruptly, Penny doesn’t know whether something happened. Something which doesn’t really have to be positive, all things considered.
Now she worries even more than she worried before and it’s just stupid. She knows it’s stupid, but she can’t help it.
She’s up in the loft when the phone rings. She curses whoever needs to call on Christmas Eve of all days and hurries down the stairs, almost falling. She doesn’t know why she’s actually running, she could walk and whoever it is could call later if it’s so urgent, but fact is, she runs.
She picks up the receiver at about the fifteenth ring, whoever it is was probably losing hope, then tries to sound cheerful because it’s always Christmas Eve.
“Hello?”
“Penny?”
I won't call for eight years. December 24, 2004. Christmas eve. I promise. Please, Pen.
Maybe she knows why she was running, now.
“Desmond?”, she asks, not believing what she’s saying herself.
“Penny... Answer, Penny.”
And it’s really his voice, it’s really him and no, this is the greatest relief she has ever felt all her life, she thinks while her heart’s rate of beating increases at a speed she wouldn’t have believed possible.
#5 When Sayid reached out and touched faith
He said he would do it, but he knows better.
There really wasn’t anything else he could tell Ben except yes, but if there’s someone Sayid is never going to kill, well, this is her.
As soon as he got the name, he understood why it was and well, he isn’t going to be the one to clean up Ben’s mess. Sure, he knows he wants to avenge his daughter, saying it just for the sake of clarity since she wasn’t even his daughter in the first place, but Sayid has realized that he was wrong in following his need for revenge in the first place. He knows he’s beyond every possible redemption right now and nothing he can do will ever lift the weight on his shoulders, but maybe if he stops here and now, he’d keep at least the loyalty to his friends which he recognizes as his only good quality right now.
He often wonders what would Nadia think of him now if she could see him, and maybe she can, but he knows that she’d be disgusted if he followed through with Ben’s order.
Which is why he’s going to Penelope Widmore’s house right now, a gun tucked in his jeans because Ben wanted him to do it as soon as he left his hotel room and made sure he was armed.
Sayid is going to her house, but he won’t use it, not on her. He will tell her that she’s in danger, who she needs to stay away from, he will fill her on the few details he knows of her father and Ben’s business, then he will leave and well, he won’t say he never thought of using that gun on himself, but he found out that it’s useless. So maybe he’ll just disappear somewhere, or maybe he’ll go back to Ben and accept that he definitely sold his soul. He won’t be able to refuse anything else if he does, but she will be safe and that’s what matters.
He couldn’t do it. Even if she wasn’t Desmond’s girl he couldn’t, and the fact that she is just puts a categoric imperative no on it.
It’s dark when he arrives on her doorstep. He doesn’t knock; he has long learned how to break open a lock.
It doesn’t take long and he steps in the dark hall; Ben told him everything, even where the stairs are and where her bedroom is.
He turns right and goes up the stairs. Second door on the left. He opens it, slowly, without making too much noise; but then he hears something, he can’t exactly place the sound but it was like someone moving. Well, time to do his job.
“Miss Widmore?”
“Guess it’s her lucky day, brother.”
Sayid suddenly stops dead in his tracks, a chill running down his spine; his hand slams against the wall, finding a switch.
He flips it and he can only notice two things. The bed is untouched and Desmond is standing in the corner.
His hair is shorter, he wears jeans and a white shirt, his skin is still tanned, he’s barefoot and Sayid thinks he must be seeing some kind of ghost because...
“You are on the island.”, he says, his voice trembling.
“That’s definitely not the case.”, he answers, smiling slightly. He doesn’t seem angry, but if he’s here and she isn’t...
“How is it even possible?”
“You can thank that Orchid station, brother. Took a while to learn what it could do, but seems it is.”
“You know why I am here, don’t you?”
Desmond’s expression suddenly becomes more serious and he takes a couple of steps in his direction.
“Aye. Aye, I do. That’s why she isn’t here. Her father knew someone’s was gonna go after her. She’s in a safe place. Not too far, but well, forgive me if I don’t share the information.”
Sayid nods, still too confused to do anything.
“No, I do not want to know it. Anyway, I did not come here in order to...”
“Sayid. I know.”
Sayid feels a lump form in his throat. Two words, but they hit like a punch.
“What..?”
“I know what you’re doing right now. But I also know you weren’t ever going to do such a thing.”
“How is that you are so sure I wouldn’t have?”
“If I say it’s a question of faith?”
“Are you saying you have some kind of faith in me?”
“Well, I never was wrong when I did, yeah?”
Sayid can’t look at him, he can’t anymore, not if he doesn’t want to feel even more ashamed than he actually is (and he’s rarely felt so ashamed in his whole life, truth to be told). He still thinks it’s an hallucination. It just can’t be; and if what Desmond says should make him feel better, it just stresses how low he has fallen.
“You probably shouldn’t now.”
“I beg to differ.”
“You don’t know.”
“I think I do, brother. I think I just do.”
“And what do you know?”
“If I said that a couple of months ago you were in Berlin goin’ to the opera with a pretty miss named Elsa what would you say?”
Sayid raises his head slowly. Desmond’s expression is just unreadable and well, he knows. Sayid can’t even begin to ask himself why, but he does and he doesn’t know whether he’s relieved for it or not.
“And you still say you have faith in me?”, he asks, his voice less steady than he’d like.
“Aye, and I’m also sayin’ that you could definitely use some, brother. You know, it never is too late to change idea.”
“What? Desmond, I think I should go. I really should not be here, he would find out and..:”
“So you want to go back there? Well, brother, that isn’t much wise, yeah?”
“What else is for me to do?”
“There is much for you to do.”
“There isn’t.”
“You know, I’m here, but they need you. All of them, of us, whatever, need all of you who left. And you're included.”
“I can’t do anything. Not like this.”
“No one says you have to go back there, Sayid.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“Well, brother, I hope you didn’t forget that once we weren’t that bad of a team.”
Sayid laughs at it, he has to, he just can’t not.
“I did not, but should I really get into this on blind faith only? It is not like you are being much clear about it.”
“Oh, I will, soon. But I think you should just go for it.”
Desmond just extends a hand towards him and Sayid doesn’t really think about what he’s doing when he takes it and he’s pulled into an embrace.
He hangs on to Desmond’s shoulders maybe a bit stronger than necessary but then Desmond does the same and Sayid just closes his eyes and realizes that maybe he really can still do something.
End.
