Lost_Land: The Ship That Never Was
Story Title: She Wasn't Alone
Lost Fan Fiction by chaoticprose
Pairing: Claire/MiB
Comments: For Lost_Land Challenge Fourteen
Rating: PG-ish
Disclaimer: Lost belongs not to me. :)
Claire stumbled in the darkness--she didn't know where he was taking them or why, but she had gone willingly when he asked her to follow. They were well beyond the glow of Sawyer's campfire when the man stopped and turned to face her. The torch light flickered as he planted it into the ground and stepped toward Claire, taking the sleeping infant from her arms.
"It's time for you to tell him goodbye."
Fear burned in her eyes. "What? Why? I won't leave him!"
"Claire, he doesn't belong with you. If you want him to be safe, you have to leave him now."
Claire thought for a moment and wasn't entirely sure whether or not she was dreaming. Something didn't feel right--she didn't feel right. She felt off, or broken somehow. Claire looked at the man--her father--and then at her baby. Aaron looked entirely peaceful as she leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. Christian turned and walked toward a clump of elephant ear and there they left the slumbering bundle.
They walked for some time before Claire realized she still didn't know where they were going. As she turned things over in her mind, all she could be sure of was that none of it made any sense. Finally she stopped in her tracks.
The man who looked like her father went several paces more and turned to face her once he realized she'd stopped. They stared each other down, each waiting for the other to speak, until Claire gave him a quizzical look. "You're not really my father, are you?"
For a long moment his expression went unchanged, but then a broad grin spread over his face. "No, Claire. I'm not." He turned then and began to walk again, and Claire silently followed. "Your father died in Sydney. His remains were on the plane that brought you here."
"I... I don't understand."
Stopping, he turned to face her once again. "His son--your brother--was escorting the coffin back to Los Angeles."
Claire's face crumpled in confusion. "My brother?"
He smiled. "Jack."
"Jack is my brother?"
The man who wasn't Claire's father nodded and continued moving deeper into the jungle. Claire processed this new information for several minutes before she spoke again. "Then who are you? Why do you look like my father?"
There was only silence, and Claire perceived that her questions would not be answered tonight.
She awoke abruptly, thinking the whole thing had been a dream, but as she became aware of her surroundings she knew it had all been real--to some extent, at least. She was sitting in a chair inside a dark shack. Scattered sunlight filtered in through dirty windows and small gaps in the old walls. Claire rubbed her head, feeling disoriented--she didn't recall going to sleep, or stopping for that matter.
"Good morning," greeted an unfamiliar voice.
Claire strained her eyes and as they adjusted she saw a man sitting in a rocking chair in the opposite corner. He leaned forward into the diffused light which filled the center of the room. She could see his face now--it wasn't her father or anyone she'd ever seen before, but somehow she knew it was still him. Now he had salt and pepper hair that was cut very short, and he was dressed in dark ragged clothing that appeared to be handmade.
"Did you sleep well?"
She nodded in response and he smiled, then he stood and retrieved something from a small table in the center of the room. "It isn't much--just some fruit--but you should eat." He handed Claire a mango and then removed a knife from a worn leather scabbard at his waist. "Here." He gave her the knife handle first and when she hesitated, he chuckled and reached to take back the mango.
The man returned to his chair and began to cut the piece of fruit in half. Claire wondered who the man was and why he was interested in her. Juice ran down the blade as he sliced into the mango's orange flesh, and he looked up when Claire's rumbling stomach broke the silence. "It's been awhile since you ate," he said, handing the halved mango back to her before wiping the knife on his pants and placing it back in the scabbard.
Claire devoured her meal and the man watched as she ate. She was too hungry and thankful to feel uncomfortable, and she was more curious than anything else. Letting her eyes wash over the interior of the peculiar little shack, she couldn't help but wonder why they were there. "Is this your home?"
"It was. For awhile." After a long pause he spoke again. "Did you get enough to eat?"
"Yes, thank you." It was beginning to feel awkward now, and Claire wanted answers. "Why are we here?"
Leaning back in his rocking chair, the man nodded toward the door. "I'm expecting an important visitor--but not until tonight." He stood up then and reached his hand out to Claire. "Let's go for a walk."
Claire didn't know why, but she trusted him, and placed her hand in his. A genuine smile spread across his face and he helped her up and led her to the door, not dropping her hand until they were outside. The man walked several paces ahead of Claire and then stopped to see if she was coming. The sunlight made her eyes ache and she squinted until they no longer hurt. "Are you coming?" Claire nodded and hurried to join him.
"I suppose you're wondering why I've brought you here--why I've led you away from your people."
It hadn't really occurred to Claire that he had separated her from her friends. Here again she felt that strange feeling set in. It wasn't that her memory was foggy and she couldn't remember the people she'd left--she remembered them just fine; she just didn't feel upset or worried about them. No part of her felt like she wasn't where she was supposed to be. "I am curious," she responded finally.
The Man in Black seemed pleased and moved his eyes from her to the jungle ahead of them. "I've been watching you for a long time." He let several seconds pass before he continued. "Did you know that I was born here? On the island?" Claire shook her head and he went on. "I've lived here my whole long life. I've never been able to leave."
Claire didn't know why, but somehow she knew that this man was nothing he appeared to be. It interested her that he'd said "long life", and she wondered how long he'd been alive. "Why can't you leave?"
They'd reached a large pond with a waterfall, and the Man in Black walked to its edge and looked out over the water. "There is a man--a bad man--who won't let me leave. He was my brother once, but now he is only my jailor."
"Why won't he let you leave?"
"Because he's jealous." The man turned his head to face Claire. "He has to stay on the island, to protect it from outsiders, and he doesn't want me to leave when he can't."
Claire let this sink in for awhile and let her mind wander back to what he'd said about watching her. "Why do you need me?"
"I'm going to tell you, but first, I've brought you here so you can bathe--that is, if you want to. It might be awhile before you have another chance."
Claire made a sweeping glance of her surroundings and then looked at the man with concern. "It's ok," he smiled. "I'll sit with my back to this tree." He nodded then to a tightly knit cluster of Banyan and left her standing by the pond. Claire watched as The Man in Black sat in the dirt and began to sharpen the blade of his knife with a stone. "I have a plan, Claire," the man said, and Claire looked up cautiously, and when she was sure he wasn't looking, she pulled off her jeans and placed them neatly on a large rock beside the pond. After she removed her shirt, she waded carefully into the cool water and swam several feet out to the center.
"What is it? This plan of yours?" Claire's voice echoed off the rock wall behind the waterfall.
"The details aren't important right now," the man replied, loud enough for her to hear. "It will take time... a lot of work, too. I need the help of someone I can trust. I chose you, Claire, because I believe you won't betray me."
There was a splashing sound followed by silence as Claire submerged herself fully. Then a moment later another splashing sound as she broke the surface and made her way toward the shore. "Um, don't look. I'm getting out now," she stated shyly before she stood up out of the water and began to squeeze the water out of her hair. The sound of the stone scraping against the metal blade was the only sound to be heard aside from the waterfall. Claire shook off as much water as she could and attempted to wring what she could out of her under things. Finally she slipped back into her clothing and shoes and went to where the man now sat, staring off into the distance until she approached and he stood up.
"Uh, thanks," she shrugged, nodding back at the water.
A gentle smile spread across the man's face. "You're welcome," he replied, gently brushing the tips of his fingers across her cheek. "Are you ready to go home?"
Claire smiled for the first time in a long time. "I am."
Lost Fan Fiction by chaoticprose
Pairing: Claire/MiB
Comments: For Lost_Land Challenge Fourteen
Rating: PG-ish
Disclaimer: Lost belongs not to me. :)
Claire stumbled in the darkness--she didn't know where he was taking them or why, but she had gone willingly when he asked her to follow. They were well beyond the glow of Sawyer's campfire when the man stopped and turned to face her. The torch light flickered as he planted it into the ground and stepped toward Claire, taking the sleeping infant from her arms.
"It's time for you to tell him goodbye."
Fear burned in her eyes. "What? Why? I won't leave him!"
"Claire, he doesn't belong with you. If you want him to be safe, you have to leave him now."
Claire thought for a moment and wasn't entirely sure whether or not she was dreaming. Something didn't feel right--she didn't feel right. She felt off, or broken somehow. Claire looked at the man--her father--and then at her baby. Aaron looked entirely peaceful as she leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. Christian turned and walked toward a clump of elephant ear and there they left the slumbering bundle.
They walked for some time before Claire realized she still didn't know where they were going. As she turned things over in her mind, all she could be sure of was that none of it made any sense. Finally she stopped in her tracks.
The man who looked like her father went several paces more and turned to face her once he realized she'd stopped. They stared each other down, each waiting for the other to speak, until Claire gave him a quizzical look. "You're not really my father, are you?"
For a long moment his expression went unchanged, but then a broad grin spread over his face. "No, Claire. I'm not." He turned then and began to walk again, and Claire silently followed. "Your father died in Sydney. His remains were on the plane that brought you here."
"I... I don't understand."
Stopping, he turned to face her once again. "His son--your brother--was escorting the coffin back to Los Angeles."
Claire's face crumpled in confusion. "My brother?"
He smiled. "Jack."
"Jack is my brother?"
The man who wasn't Claire's father nodded and continued moving deeper into the jungle. Claire processed this new information for several minutes before she spoke again. "Then who are you? Why do you look like my father?"
There was only silence, and Claire perceived that her questions would not be answered tonight.
She awoke abruptly, thinking the whole thing had been a dream, but as she became aware of her surroundings she knew it had all been real--to some extent, at least. She was sitting in a chair inside a dark shack. Scattered sunlight filtered in through dirty windows and small gaps in the old walls. Claire rubbed her head, feeling disoriented--she didn't recall going to sleep, or stopping for that matter.
"Good morning," greeted an unfamiliar voice.
Claire strained her eyes and as they adjusted she saw a man sitting in a rocking chair in the opposite corner. He leaned forward into the diffused light which filled the center of the room. She could see his face now--it wasn't her father or anyone she'd ever seen before, but somehow she knew it was still him. Now he had salt and pepper hair that was cut very short, and he was dressed in dark ragged clothing that appeared to be handmade.
"Did you sleep well?"
She nodded in response and he smiled, then he stood and retrieved something from a small table in the center of the room. "It isn't much--just some fruit--but you should eat." He handed Claire a mango and then removed a knife from a worn leather scabbard at his waist. "Here." He gave her the knife handle first and when she hesitated, he chuckled and reached to take back the mango.
The man returned to his chair and began to cut the piece of fruit in half. Claire wondered who the man was and why he was interested in her. Juice ran down the blade as he sliced into the mango's orange flesh, and he looked up when Claire's rumbling stomach broke the silence. "It's been awhile since you ate," he said, handing the halved mango back to her before wiping the knife on his pants and placing it back in the scabbard.
Claire devoured her meal and the man watched as she ate. She was too hungry and thankful to feel uncomfortable, and she was more curious than anything else. Letting her eyes wash over the interior of the peculiar little shack, she couldn't help but wonder why they were there. "Is this your home?"
"It was. For awhile." After a long pause he spoke again. "Did you get enough to eat?"
"Yes, thank you." It was beginning to feel awkward now, and Claire wanted answers. "Why are we here?"
Leaning back in his rocking chair, the man nodded toward the door. "I'm expecting an important visitor--but not until tonight." He stood up then and reached his hand out to Claire. "Let's go for a walk."
Claire didn't know why, but she trusted him, and placed her hand in his. A genuine smile spread across his face and he helped her up and led her to the door, not dropping her hand until they were outside. The man walked several paces ahead of Claire and then stopped to see if she was coming. The sunlight made her eyes ache and she squinted until they no longer hurt. "Are you coming?" Claire nodded and hurried to join him.
"I suppose you're wondering why I've brought you here--why I've led you away from your people."
It hadn't really occurred to Claire that he had separated her from her friends. Here again she felt that strange feeling set in. It wasn't that her memory was foggy and she couldn't remember the people she'd left--she remembered them just fine; she just didn't feel upset or worried about them. No part of her felt like she wasn't where she was supposed to be. "I am curious," she responded finally.
The Man in Black seemed pleased and moved his eyes from her to the jungle ahead of them. "I've been watching you for a long time." He let several seconds pass before he continued. "Did you know that I was born here? On the island?" Claire shook her head and he went on. "I've lived here my whole long life. I've never been able to leave."
Claire didn't know why, but somehow she knew that this man was nothing he appeared to be. It interested her that he'd said "long life", and she wondered how long he'd been alive. "Why can't you leave?"
They'd reached a large pond with a waterfall, and the Man in Black walked to its edge and looked out over the water. "There is a man--a bad man--who won't let me leave. He was my brother once, but now he is only my jailor."
"Why won't he let you leave?"
"Because he's jealous." The man turned his head to face Claire. "He has to stay on the island, to protect it from outsiders, and he doesn't want me to leave when he can't."
Claire let this sink in for awhile and let her mind wander back to what he'd said about watching her. "Why do you need me?"
"I'm going to tell you, but first, I've brought you here so you can bathe--that is, if you want to. It might be awhile before you have another chance."
Claire made a sweeping glance of her surroundings and then looked at the man with concern. "It's ok," he smiled. "I'll sit with my back to this tree." He nodded then to a tightly knit cluster of Banyan and left her standing by the pond. Claire watched as The Man in Black sat in the dirt and began to sharpen the blade of his knife with a stone. "I have a plan, Claire," the man said, and Claire looked up cautiously, and when she was sure he wasn't looking, she pulled off her jeans and placed them neatly on a large rock beside the pond. After she removed her shirt, she waded carefully into the cool water and swam several feet out to the center.
"What is it? This plan of yours?" Claire's voice echoed off the rock wall behind the waterfall.
"The details aren't important right now," the man replied, loud enough for her to hear. "It will take time... a lot of work, too. I need the help of someone I can trust. I chose you, Claire, because I believe you won't betray me."
There was a splashing sound followed by silence as Claire submerged herself fully. Then a moment later another splashing sound as she broke the surface and made her way toward the shore. "Um, don't look. I'm getting out now," she stated shyly before she stood up out of the water and began to squeeze the water out of her hair. The sound of the stone scraping against the metal blade was the only sound to be heard aside from the waterfall. Claire shook off as much water as she could and attempted to wring what she could out of her under things. Finally she slipped back into her clothing and shoes and went to where the man now sat, staring off into the distance until she approached and he stood up.
"Uh, thanks," she shrugged, nodding back at the water.
A gentle smile spread across the man's face. "You're welcome," he replied, gently brushing the tips of his fingers across her cheek. "Are you ready to go home?"
Claire smiled for the first time in a long time. "I am."