fic: we don't bleed (when we don't fight) (lost)
we don't bleed (when we don't fight)
lost. five points of reference in the life of eloise hawking. eloise; charles/eloise. rated pg. general season five spoilers. 772 words.
notes: for lenina_20! her prompt had been this icon, and, um. it would up being moreso about eloise than charles? *laughs* that said, hope you enjoy!
1.
Let us begin:
The island has always been a rock, a jut of land, surrounded by the sea and the brine and the salt. It has always been framed in sand, sand baked white in the glare of a sun that burns and beckons, that refuses to forgive.
That very first day, Ellie had waded in from the surf and as the sand reached up from wet to damp to dry she had sneered.
“Nothing special, is it?”
The sun was bright and she squinted, she sneered, she stood caught in its glare.
A boy kicked at the back of her shins. She peered over her shoulder and the boy’s mouth, lips cracked a pale pink, was drawn down by the edges into an angry frown.
“Get a move on, eh?” he said to her.
Ellie turned her back to the boy and she remained still for a moment. Birds did not call from inside the hooded canopy of the jungle. There was no rustle of branches or underbrush as unseen creatures scattered from left to right and then back around again. There was nothing, she heard nothing.
The sun had been hot and a chill crept the length of her spine. She did not shiver.
No. Ellie did not shiver.
She smiled.
2.
“Sometimes,” Richard had said to Jack, “love is complicated.”
Jack had nodded as though he understood, and maybe he had. Richard could not be sure. Richard had not really cared. Maybe this Jack, maybe he knew the complexities of love and maybe he had experienced them firsthand.
Eloise and Charles stood over the body of a dead man who claimed to be her son.
Richard had run a hand over his chin and watched.
3.
“Maybe it’s a sign,” Charles said. He said it more to the sky and the night than to her. His lips were pressed down even in a frown he employed as often as any other man might employ a smile.
Ellie scoffed. She did not believe in things like that, not then. And maybe, maybe, not at present either. It is hard to say. There are some things out there she can look to and believe in. She can look to the turning dial of a clock, the stretch and expanse of a minute, an hour, a second hand. She can look to that and say: yes, I believe in that. I believe in the passage of time. I believe that some things can happen, events can come to pass, and man will just stand there idle, let time stretch old and weary over him.
I believe in time, she could say. I believe we all grow old but we don't really die.
Charles never thought like that. He thought of things he could hold, tangible things like flesh and bone and blood, like the profit and the loss.
Maybe he thought of her, because that night - the same day the strangers came and just as suddenly disappeared - he kissed her.
4.
She loved him when she was seventeen.
The problem with that is simple: seventeen only lasts for one year and after that there are different numbers and different years. After that, Ellie is a different woman. Charles is a different man.
After seventeen, she decided the word love was a liability. And maybe it is. Maybe, maybe it is.
(Charles did not love Ellie when he was seventeen.
He loved her later. He loved her when he was seventy, when he was sixty, fifty, forty, the numbers shrink. He loved her throughout the intervening years, the way time trips up and creates human absence, creates a nostalgia that rounds the rougher edges of a person.
He did not love her when he was seventeen).
5.
The slap is easy across his face. Charles barely flinches.
They grew old. Color gave way to gray and white and bodies went brittle and sad. They call her Eloise now and the island remains, history remains.
In 1977 she will shoot her grown son in the chest and he will die. There is that.
In 1977, Charles Widmore will tell her he loves her, he will say it like he means it, say it with the same strength and veracity he will allow every other lie to pass from his lips.
She will listen, and then she will leave.
Know this:
Ellie believes in the passage of time.
They grow old but they don’t die.
She had loved him first.
fin.
lost. five points of reference in the life of eloise hawking. eloise; charles/eloise. rated pg. general season five spoilers. 772 words.
notes: for lenina_20! her prompt had been this icon, and, um. it would up being moreso about eloise than charles? *laughs* that said, hope you enjoy!
1.
Let us begin:
The island has always been a rock, a jut of land, surrounded by the sea and the brine and the salt. It has always been framed in sand, sand baked white in the glare of a sun that burns and beckons, that refuses to forgive.
That very first day, Ellie had waded in from the surf and as the sand reached up from wet to damp to dry she had sneered.
“Nothing special, is it?”
The sun was bright and she squinted, she sneered, she stood caught in its glare.
A boy kicked at the back of her shins. She peered over her shoulder and the boy’s mouth, lips cracked a pale pink, was drawn down by the edges into an angry frown.
“Get a move on, eh?” he said to her.
Ellie turned her back to the boy and she remained still for a moment. Birds did not call from inside the hooded canopy of the jungle. There was no rustle of branches or underbrush as unseen creatures scattered from left to right and then back around again. There was nothing, she heard nothing.
The sun had been hot and a chill crept the length of her spine. She did not shiver.
No. Ellie did not shiver.
She smiled.
2.
“Sometimes,” Richard had said to Jack, “love is complicated.”
Jack had nodded as though he understood, and maybe he had. Richard could not be sure. Richard had not really cared. Maybe this Jack, maybe he knew the complexities of love and maybe he had experienced them firsthand.
Eloise and Charles stood over the body of a dead man who claimed to be her son.
Richard had run a hand over his chin and watched.
3.
“Maybe it’s a sign,” Charles said. He said it more to the sky and the night than to her. His lips were pressed down even in a frown he employed as often as any other man might employ a smile.
Ellie scoffed. She did not believe in things like that, not then. And maybe, maybe, not at present either. It is hard to say. There are some things out there she can look to and believe in. She can look to the turning dial of a clock, the stretch and expanse of a minute, an hour, a second hand. She can look to that and say: yes, I believe in that. I believe in the passage of time. I believe that some things can happen, events can come to pass, and man will just stand there idle, let time stretch old and weary over him.
I believe in time, she could say. I believe we all grow old but we don't really die.
Charles never thought like that. He thought of things he could hold, tangible things like flesh and bone and blood, like the profit and the loss.
Maybe he thought of her, because that night - the same day the strangers came and just as suddenly disappeared - he kissed her.
4.
She loved him when she was seventeen.
The problem with that is simple: seventeen only lasts for one year and after that there are different numbers and different years. After that, Ellie is a different woman. Charles is a different man.
After seventeen, she decided the word love was a liability. And maybe it is. Maybe, maybe it is.
(Charles did not love Ellie when he was seventeen.
He loved her later. He loved her when he was seventy, when he was sixty, fifty, forty, the numbers shrink. He loved her throughout the intervening years, the way time trips up and creates human absence, creates a nostalgia that rounds the rougher edges of a person.
He did not love her when he was seventeen).
5.
The slap is easy across his face. Charles barely flinches.
They grew old. Color gave way to gray and white and bodies went brittle and sad. They call her Eloise now and the island remains, history remains.
In 1977 she will shoot her grown son in the chest and he will die. There is that.
In 1977, Charles Widmore will tell her he loves her, he will say it like he means it, say it with the same strength and veracity he will allow every other lie to pass from his lips.
She will listen, and then she will leave.
Know this:
Ellie believes in the passage of time.
They grow old but they don’t die.
She had loved him first.
fin.