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nothisproperty replied to your post: ✈
[Love it :D]
frecklesthefugitive replied to your post: ✈
[ ooooh I like it! :) ]
ijustshotabear replied to your post: ✈
[Love it. And you’re my new hero for finding decent gifs of Desmond, Hurley, and Sayid XD]
[Glad it works-- it took me forever (and I'm not exaggerating)to edit the HTML code on that thing. Nightmare.
And Chloe-- XDD]
nothisproperty replied to your video: [This is pretty cool. Behind the scenes of Through...
[LOL Michael XD omg]
hispenny replied to your video: [This is pretty cool. Behind the scenes of Through...
[Oh my GOD. All my feels ;__; ]
[I love the behind the scene pieces. The cast looks like they have a lot of fun together! XD]
nothisproperty replied to your post: [Muse is not cooperating. At all. Excuse the lack...
[*SHAKES BEN* xD]
[Good! HE NEEDS HELP! AAHHHHHH]
nothisproperty replied to your post: ✈
[Mom (rather than dad, for once ;P), bike, Juliet]
Mom
He stared at the phone in his hand, at the little plastic numbered buttons, as if he'd forgotten momentarily what a phone was even used for. Or maybe like he was hoping it would make the call of its own accord, and he wouldn't have to. He hated that he had to do this over the phone, but he couldn't leave Sydney. Not now. Not yet.
The worst part was that he had no idea how she might react, and it scared him that he couldn't actually be there when she found out.
To pick up the pieces, if he needed to.
Jack ran a slightly trembling hand over his face and took a long, deep breath. Released it in a sigh. Tried to get a saddle on the worst of what he was feeling, and then dialed his mother's number.
Margo didn't answer with a 'hello', nothing so pedestrian. It was straight to the point. He had caller I.D. and her lifetime of stoicism to thank for that.
"Well? Did you find him?"
Jack's voice was a lot steadier than his hands. "I found him."
There was silence on the other end of the line, and he could tell she already knew. She'd probably known before he even made the call. He could see it in her face, sometimes; that she'd been expecting this phone call for a long time. Finally: "And he's gone, isn't he."
"... Yeah, Mom. He's gone."
"How?"
The word was curt, and anybody who wasn't her son probably wouldn't have picked up on the near-imperceptible tremor behind it. Jack wondered if she was crying already. If she was, it would be impossible to tell. She didn't make any noise when she cried; it was all in the set of her shoulders, the way her jaw muscles tightened. The tears could stream down her cheeks for hours without her making a single sound. For all Jack's need to be an adult even before he was old enough to understand what that meant, sometimes just hearing his mother's voice made him feel like a child.
"Coroner said it was a heart attack," Jack told her. He didn't mention that Christian was found in an alley, and he didn't mention the alcohol. The former, she could do without knowing; the latter, he was certain she'd already guessed. "They're releasing the body in two days, and then I'm getting on a plane."
Pause. He heard her draw in a long breath, much like the one he'd pulled in before he dialed. "Are you okay?" she asked, a rare hint of tenderness in her tone.
Jack closed his eyes when tears started to blur his vision. He sat forward on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, head in the hand that wasn't holding the phone. No, he wasn't okay. Wasn't anything like okay. "Yeah," he forced out. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm gonna be there soon."
"What flight are you on? I'll pick you up from the airport."
"Uh - " Jack cleared his throat, blinked a few times as he picked up his plane ticket from the night stand. "It's, uh - Flight 815. Oceanic. We land at 10:42."
"I'll see you then." Another pause, and her voice got softer again. "Just get him home, Jack. Get both of you home."
"I will, Mom." He swallowed, hard. "I promise."
Bike
The ride was steady, the momentum was good - for about five seconds. The handlebars gave a jerk and his foot slipped off one of the pedals, and the next thing he knew he'd veered straight off the path and into a bush. The brambles scratched at his arms on the way down, and he'd managed to scuff a layer of skin off his knee in the process. Jack disentangled himself from the bike and the bush and looked up, frowning, frustrated, and defeated, when Christian jogged over.
"Hey - you okay, buddy? Come on, let's see the damage."
He made a face and brushed off the hand that was offered to pull him upright, settling instead for shifting into a sit at the edge of the path. He didn't look at his father, even when Christian sat down next to him. "I can't do it," he mumbled fiercely, pouting with all the stubbornness a five-year-old could muster.
"Sure you can." Christian gave his shoulder a nudge. "That was - what, your second try? You can't quit on me now, Jack! We're just getting started. Now come on."
Jack made a face as he watched his father rescue the bike, setting it the right way up and looking at him expectantly, one hand on the seat. "No," Jack said. "I don't want to. It's a stupid bike, anyway."
"You know it said the same thing about you?"
"What?"
"Just now. The bike, it told me you can't do it. You're not gonna let it talk about you like that, are you?"
Jack stared at the small red bicycle with narrowed eyes, like he actually thought it was about to start talking to him. He looked at Christian, and then back at the bike, and then he slowly got to his feet and walked over. One of his hands came out to tentatively touch the handlebars. "It didn't really say that," he said uncertainly. "... Did it?"
Christian's mouth quirked in a small smile. "Just try again, son," he said. "You always have to try again."
Juliet
So much was wrong in this situation, Jack didn't even know where to begin. He was scheduled to board a submarine in four days, and he'd never been less sure of anything in his life. What if he really couldn't come back? How could he do that - how could he condemn everyone at the beach to being trapped here for the rest of their lives? The internal debate never stopped raging, as if two sides of his conscience were at war with one another.
The only time it ever quieted down was when she was there.
She didn't just bring him his food anymore. Of course, living in a house instead of a cage or a cell made that unnecessary. But they ate together anyway. And they talked. Not about anything too revealing, or anything that could get either of them in trouble when seen or heard on the surveillance camera; just enough that he could actually find a little calm in a place where nothing was ever calm.
Jack had his doubts about leaving, but he didn't have any doubts about leaving with her. It was a strange kind of trust, one he couldn't even figure out the root of or the reasons behind.
But it was good. Good because most of his days were spent with Ben, and the mind games never stopped. Good because without something reliable, something to anchor him in reality, he was pretty sure he'd snap.
Good because at times like these, in a place like this, he needed an ally.
Juliet was something more than that. He just hadn't yet managed to figure out what.
✈
nothisproperty replied to your post: nothisproperty replied to your post [I WAS...
[B’aww ilu doofus.]
((I love you, too. =P))
nothisproperty replied to your post
[I WAS WONDERING WHY YOU WERE IGNORING ME ;-;]
((Like I could ever ignore you.))
nothisproperty replied to your post: hechangedtherules replied to your post [Glad to...
[Keep your feet on the ground, doofus. Don’t make me come over there and punch that car for you. C’mere xD]
((Pff, you know how I am with heights. I prefer my feet on solid, low ground. =P))
