Love Can Be a Liar
Title: Love Can Be a Liar
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own them; just borrowing.
Summary: Kate, Aaron, and the O6 homecoming. This won't be the last lie she tells today.
Spoilers: There's No Place Like Home Part 1
Notes: 266-word drabble for lostfichallenge #72: The Oceanic Six. The title comes from Ray LaMontagne's “How Come.”
Your families are already there, they've been promised, and Kate holds Aaron close to her chest. She watches.
Hurley. Jack. Sun. Even Sayid is pulled into a reunion. Your families are already there. Your families, your families, your families. If you say the words too often they sound like nothing.
Hurley is a little boy in his exuberance. Jack's mother cries. Aaron feels too heavy in her arms.
She doesn't recognize anyone in this crowd. She clutches the baby even closer and he squirms, protesting with a whine. (You are not my family. You are not my mother.)
She watches. She searches. She fades into the background.
You know, she remembers this. She's twelve years old again, stepping off a flight from Des Moines. She's looking for him, always irrationally afraid he won't be there, waiting for her. But for all his faults, he'd never failed to push through the crowds to her, lifting her up, the rough fabric of his fatigues against her cheek.
She watches. She searches. Her father fades.
Today, the only thing she feels on her cheek is a small hand, chubby and damp, patting curiously. (Are you my family? Are you my mother?)
Okay...It's okay. She soothes his whimper gently, a whisper to the top of his head.
This won't be the last lie she tells today. (This is our baby, she'd said, as he'd pushed his way into the world.)
She sees a reporter approaching her and she takes a breath. Yes, this is my family. This is my son.
Just add this to the list of her crimes.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Don't own them; just borrowing.
Summary: Kate, Aaron, and the O6 homecoming. This won't be the last lie she tells today.
Spoilers: There's No Place Like Home Part 1
Notes: 266-word drabble for lostfichallenge #72: The Oceanic Six. The title comes from Ray LaMontagne's “How Come.”
Your families are already there, they've been promised, and Kate holds Aaron close to her chest. She watches.
Hurley. Jack. Sun. Even Sayid is pulled into a reunion. Your families are already there. Your families, your families, your families. If you say the words too often they sound like nothing.
Hurley is a little boy in his exuberance. Jack's mother cries. Aaron feels too heavy in her arms.
She doesn't recognize anyone in this crowd. She clutches the baby even closer and he squirms, protesting with a whine. (You are not my family. You are not my mother.)
She watches. She searches. She fades into the background.
You know, she remembers this. She's twelve years old again, stepping off a flight from Des Moines. She's looking for him, always irrationally afraid he won't be there, waiting for her. But for all his faults, he'd never failed to push through the crowds to her, lifting her up, the rough fabric of his fatigues against her cheek.
She watches. She searches. Her father fades.
Today, the only thing she feels on her cheek is a small hand, chubby and damp, patting curiously. (Are you my family? Are you my mother?)
Okay...It's okay. She soothes his whimper gently, a whisper to the top of his head.
This won't be the last lie she tells today. (This is our baby, she'd said, as he'd pushed his way into the world.)
She sees a reporter approaching her and she takes a breath. Yes, this is my family. This is my son.
Just add this to the list of her crimes.