ficlet: Impending Doom (Jack/Sawyer), Gen
This is specially tailored for today's Queen at the lostsquee's Luau, the ever wonderful siluria I hope you like it sweetie!
seems the muse loves even numbers, that it's 200 words is not even on purpose but it pleases my OCD tendencies!
Impending Doom
Jack/Sawyer, 200 words, Gen (General spoilers for S5)
Oh god, he was so dead.
After everything, and seriously, the list was so long his brain was even skipping stuff now as it all flashed before his eyes - plane crash, dynamite, unstable wackos, being shot, kidnapped, a bomb, an helicopter crash, shot again, an almost overdose, two inches from jumping off a bridge, time traveling and wait for it, a goddamn nuclear bomb- this was the stupid way he was going to die.
Crushed to pieces, down a ravine off the Pacific Coast Highway, maybe - if he was lucky - with a merciful explosion that would cut his sufferings short.
And what was Sawyer doing in the face of their impending doom? The fucker was whooping loudly, grinning a bit manically every time he fishtailed while driving 60 miles an hour in a torrential downpour that prevented them to even see properly 20 feet ahead. Okay so Sawyer brought the car back every time, but that was not the point.
The point was that Jack should never have caved to his boyfriend's deceptive charms and rented the Volvo, not the Charger with a 6,1 L HEMI.
Fucking dimples. He'd always known they'd be the death of him.
seems the muse loves even numbers, that it's 200 words is not even on purpose but it pleases my OCD tendencies!
Impending Doom
Jack/Sawyer, 200 words, Gen (General spoilers for S5)
Oh god, he was so dead.
After everything, and seriously, the list was so long his brain was even skipping stuff now as it all flashed before his eyes - plane crash, dynamite, unstable wackos, being shot, kidnapped, a bomb, an helicopter crash, shot again, an almost overdose, two inches from jumping off a bridge, time traveling and wait for it, a goddamn nuclear bomb- this was the stupid way he was going to die.
Crushed to pieces, down a ravine off the Pacific Coast Highway, maybe - if he was lucky - with a merciful explosion that would cut his sufferings short.
And what was Sawyer doing in the face of their impending doom? The fucker was whooping loudly, grinning a bit manically every time he fishtailed while driving 60 miles an hour in a torrential downpour that prevented them to even see properly 20 feet ahead. Okay so Sawyer brought the car back every time, but that was not the point.
The point was that Jack should never have caved to his boyfriend's deceptive charms and rented the Volvo, not the Charger with a 6,1 L HEMI.
Fucking dimples. He'd always known they'd be the death of him.