Lost. Eko/Charlie. Table 5: Light. Hope.
Title: Confession
Author: cuethe_pulse
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Mr. Eko/Charlie Pace (can be seen as established relationship, pre-slash, or just platonic)
Genre: Slash
Table: Table 5-Light
Prompt: Hope
Rating: PG
Word Count: 596
Summary: It’s been years since Charlie’s last confession.
Timeline: Season 2; Takes place some undetermined time between “Maternity Leave” and “?”.
Disclaimer: Lost and its characters do not belong to me.
“Oi, Eko.” Charlie fumbles with a particularly long and rather pesky piece of wood and curses under his breath when a splinter lodges under the skin of his thumb. “Once we’ve got the church built-” He pauses to stick his thumb in his mouth, his teeth tugging at the sliver. “-you think you’ll be up to hearing my confession? It’s been years since my last one-gotcha!” He spits the splinter onto the ground and grins triumphantly at the other man, who hasn’t stopped working. “Are you ignoring me, man?”
“No,” Eko says without looking at him. “But I am very busy.”
“Right.” Charlie frowns at the Nigerian’s sweaty back and then at the piece of wood he dropped, bending down to pick it up again. “Sorry.”
They work in silence-except for the occasional humming or whistling or murmured “You all everybody”-for close to an hour before Eko addresses his question.
“I do not need a church to hear your confession,” he says.
“Oh yeah?” Charlie perks up. “Well, where should I start? I could tell you everything if you want, but we’d be here all day.”
“Just tell me about the ones you feel you need to be forgiven for.”
Charlie doesn’t speak while he considers this. There’s been so many things, so many bad things. He thinks of Lucy, of the way he deceived her, the way he cared for her, the way he disappointed her. He thinks of Liam, of the way he rejected his offer to help. He thinks of putting a bag over Sun’s head and dragging her from her garden, thinks of the way he felt sick afterwards, of the way he can barely stand to look her in the eye these days. He thinks of the heroin only briefly, because he’s done with that stuff, whether anyone believes him or not.
He thinks and he thinks and he finally turns his back to his companion and says, “I killed a man.” He pauses, trying to picture the look of surprise he imagines is on Eko’s face; it’s difficult, and he wonders if anything ever surprises the guy, really. “His name was Ethan. He was an Other. He kidnapped us-Claire and me. Left me to die and took her-took her god knows where. But she escaped and when he came back to get her, I shot him.” He stops there and waits, waits for Eko to tell him what to do, to tell him how to repent.
Instead, Eko tells him, “The first night on the beach, I killed two people. Two Others. They took three men, and they would have taken more, had I not beat them with a rock.”
Charlie turns to look at him, the surprise he imagined etched on Eko’s face now on his. Eko stops working and meets his gaze evenly as he asks, “Do you think God hates me for this? Because I do not.”
“Then…” Charlie finds he can barely speak, the look in the other man’s eyes is so intense and firm and sure. “Then there’s hope for me, yeah?”
“Yes, Charlie,” Eko says with a bit of a smile. “There is always hope.”
And he knows that it happened so long ago and this acceptance maybe shouldn’t mean so much, but it does, and Charlie almost feels like crying. He drops his gaze, watches the cross hanging from Eko’s neck move as he breathes. “Thank you.”
Eko touches his arm, squeezes it in reassurance, in comfort, in something Charlie can’t name but appreciates all the same. “You’re welcome.”
Author: cuethe_pulse
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Mr. Eko/Charlie Pace (can be seen as established relationship, pre-slash, or just platonic)
Genre: Slash
Table: Table 5-Light
Prompt: Hope
Rating: PG
Word Count: 596
Summary: It’s been years since Charlie’s last confession.
Timeline: Season 2; Takes place some undetermined time between “Maternity Leave” and “?”.
Disclaimer: Lost and its characters do not belong to me.
“Oi, Eko.” Charlie fumbles with a particularly long and rather pesky piece of wood and curses under his breath when a splinter lodges under the skin of his thumb. “Once we’ve got the church built-” He pauses to stick his thumb in his mouth, his teeth tugging at the sliver. “-you think you’ll be up to hearing my confession? It’s been years since my last one-gotcha!” He spits the splinter onto the ground and grins triumphantly at the other man, who hasn’t stopped working. “Are you ignoring me, man?”
“No,” Eko says without looking at him. “But I am very busy.”
“Right.” Charlie frowns at the Nigerian’s sweaty back and then at the piece of wood he dropped, bending down to pick it up again. “Sorry.”
They work in silence-except for the occasional humming or whistling or murmured “You all everybody”-for close to an hour before Eko addresses his question.
“I do not need a church to hear your confession,” he says.
“Oh yeah?” Charlie perks up. “Well, where should I start? I could tell you everything if you want, but we’d be here all day.”
“Just tell me about the ones you feel you need to be forgiven for.”
Charlie doesn’t speak while he considers this. There’s been so many things, so many bad things. He thinks of Lucy, of the way he deceived her, the way he cared for her, the way he disappointed her. He thinks of Liam, of the way he rejected his offer to help. He thinks of putting a bag over Sun’s head and dragging her from her garden, thinks of the way he felt sick afterwards, of the way he can barely stand to look her in the eye these days. He thinks of the heroin only briefly, because he’s done with that stuff, whether anyone believes him or not.
He thinks and he thinks and he finally turns his back to his companion and says, “I killed a man.” He pauses, trying to picture the look of surprise he imagines is on Eko’s face; it’s difficult, and he wonders if anything ever surprises the guy, really. “His name was Ethan. He was an Other. He kidnapped us-Claire and me. Left me to die and took her-took her god knows where. But she escaped and when he came back to get her, I shot him.” He stops there and waits, waits for Eko to tell him what to do, to tell him how to repent.
Instead, Eko tells him, “The first night on the beach, I killed two people. Two Others. They took three men, and they would have taken more, had I not beat them with a rock.”
Charlie turns to look at him, the surprise he imagined etched on Eko’s face now on his. Eko stops working and meets his gaze evenly as he asks, “Do you think God hates me for this? Because I do not.”
“Then…” Charlie finds he can barely speak, the look in the other man’s eyes is so intense and firm and sure. “Then there’s hope for me, yeah?”
“Yes, Charlie,” Eko says with a bit of a smile. “There is always hope.”
And he knows that it happened so long ago and this acceptance maybe shouldn’t mean so much, but it does, and Charlie almost feels like crying. He drops his gaze, watches the cross hanging from Eko’s neck move as he breathes. “Thank you.”
Eko touches his arm, squeezes it in reassurance, in comfort, in something Charlie can’t name but appreciates all the same. “You’re welcome.”