Fic - "The Sound of Silence"
Well, posted this to a couple of comms so figured I'd best put it on my own journal!
Title: "The Sound of Silence"
Rating: PG
Pairing Ben/Ilana
Summary - a snapshot of a moment - at the end of "Dr Linus"
He watched. He observed. Noted patterns, areas of predictability. Looking for the slightest deviation, the smallest flicker in an eye - that was all he usually needed to prise open the weakest link in a chain, to manipulate a person or a situation. Not this time, though. Oh, he was on the outside looking in - as usual - but it seemed different. He'd never felt truly a part of anything. He had been feared. He had been respected. He had been ignored ... beaten ... tortured ... manipulated ... but never accepted.
This time, he watched as the reunion took place on the sand in front of him. He stood apart. Unmoving. And then...a quick glance and Ilana dropped back to stand next to him. Saying nothing, they both stood and watched the others in a surprisingly comfortable silence. Another glance. A raised eyebrow. A slight flicker of the eyes and a shrug of shoulders. No words needed. No explanations necessary. Things left unsaid because they no longer mattered. Not anymore.
I'll have you.
Three words. Three tiny words. The initial meaning - obvious. The underlying meaning - intriguing. The intonation - raw. Filled with hurt, determination, sincerity...and acceptance. The rawness and hurt had shaken him. The sincerity and determination had stopped him from walking away into the jungle. The acceptance, however, had drawn him to follow her back to the beach. Acceptance of him. Of who he was, what he'd done...and WHY he'd done it. A bittersweet taste in his mouth, he'd followed her - watching, observing, noting. Her movements fluid - she was comfortable in her skin, cradling the rifle as though it was an extension of her. She’d moved through the jungle with ease and he noted it all - the smallest detail, from the way her hand curled around the rifle to the odd bead of sweat that trickled down her shoulder.
She had glanced back once, as though aware of his gaze, and smiled slightly - an acknowledgement of the decision he’d made. He’d twitched his lips in response and her smile had widened before she’d turned and headed towards the beach once more.
And now here they were. Shoulder to shoulder. Aware of the curious glances in their direction but neither willing to break the silence. To speak would break the moment - this short period of peace and reflection needed to be cherished and preserved. It wouldn’t last - peace never did. And once it was gone, the questions would start. Questions and accusations. For once, he was glad there was someone there. Someone who understood. Someone who had already accepted him. He felt comfortable - and to be at ease - not just with yourself but with others…one other in particular - wasn’t something he was used to. He closed his eyes, wanting to reach out, grab this moment, put it in a jar and keep it safe forever.
She glanced sideways, watching as he closed his eyes. It was strange. Strange that, amongst this odd group of people, the one she should feel most relaxed with was a self-confessed murderer. Or worse. After all, he’d admitted to killing John Locke … and Jacob … how many more were there? She’d seen the looks from the others, noting the suspicion and open dislike on the faces of those who actually deigned to glance in Ben’s direction. Hours ago, she admitted to herself, she would have worn a similar expression. The ground underneath her - ground that had seemed so firm and uncompromising - had shifted following his heartfelt explanation. She’d recognised something in him then … something achingly familiar. She’d recognised herself.
I sacrificed everything for him and he didn’t even care.
That phrase could have come from her own lips. It resonated within her. That was the moment - the realisation that she and Ben were linked. They had things in common that nobody else would or could understand. Both had made sacrifices for Jacob. Both had been hurt. There but for the grace of God. Could she forgive him? No. No, not yet. It was too soon…too raw. Would she fight for him? For his right to be a part of this? Oh yes. No question. He could have walked away in the jungle. He didn’t. He followed her back to the beach. Made the decision. Taken the more difficult road. He’d recognised what he’d done and…what? Wanted to atone? Maybe. That remained to be seen. What mattered now was the present. And here they were. Two perennial outsiders finding solace in each other’s company.
He suddenly opened his eyes, caught her staring at him. She didn’t drop her eyes; she met his gaze boldly. He tilted his head slightly and she raised an eyebrow. A smile … a flick of eyes and they both turned, walking back across the sand.
In silence.
Title: "The Sound of Silence"
Rating: PG
Pairing Ben/Ilana
Summary - a snapshot of a moment - at the end of "Dr Linus"
He watched. He observed. Noted patterns, areas of predictability. Looking for the slightest deviation, the smallest flicker in an eye - that was all he usually needed to prise open the weakest link in a chain, to manipulate a person or a situation. Not this time, though. Oh, he was on the outside looking in - as usual - but it seemed different. He'd never felt truly a part of anything. He had been feared. He had been respected. He had been ignored ... beaten ... tortured ... manipulated ... but never accepted.
This time, he watched as the reunion took place on the sand in front of him. He stood apart. Unmoving. And then...a quick glance and Ilana dropped back to stand next to him. Saying nothing, they both stood and watched the others in a surprisingly comfortable silence. Another glance. A raised eyebrow. A slight flicker of the eyes and a shrug of shoulders. No words needed. No explanations necessary. Things left unsaid because they no longer mattered. Not anymore.
I'll have you.
Three words. Three tiny words. The initial meaning - obvious. The underlying meaning - intriguing. The intonation - raw. Filled with hurt, determination, sincerity...and acceptance. The rawness and hurt had shaken him. The sincerity and determination had stopped him from walking away into the jungle. The acceptance, however, had drawn him to follow her back to the beach. Acceptance of him. Of who he was, what he'd done...and WHY he'd done it. A bittersweet taste in his mouth, he'd followed her - watching, observing, noting. Her movements fluid - she was comfortable in her skin, cradling the rifle as though it was an extension of her. She’d moved through the jungle with ease and he noted it all - the smallest detail, from the way her hand curled around the rifle to the odd bead of sweat that trickled down her shoulder.
She had glanced back once, as though aware of his gaze, and smiled slightly - an acknowledgement of the decision he’d made. He’d twitched his lips in response and her smile had widened before she’d turned and headed towards the beach once more.
And now here they were. Shoulder to shoulder. Aware of the curious glances in their direction but neither willing to break the silence. To speak would break the moment - this short period of peace and reflection needed to be cherished and preserved. It wouldn’t last - peace never did. And once it was gone, the questions would start. Questions and accusations. For once, he was glad there was someone there. Someone who understood. Someone who had already accepted him. He felt comfortable - and to be at ease - not just with yourself but with others…one other in particular - wasn’t something he was used to. He closed his eyes, wanting to reach out, grab this moment, put it in a jar and keep it safe forever.
She glanced sideways, watching as he closed his eyes. It was strange. Strange that, amongst this odd group of people, the one she should feel most relaxed with was a self-confessed murderer. Or worse. After all, he’d admitted to killing John Locke … and Jacob … how many more were there? She’d seen the looks from the others, noting the suspicion and open dislike on the faces of those who actually deigned to glance in Ben’s direction. Hours ago, she admitted to herself, she would have worn a similar expression. The ground underneath her - ground that had seemed so firm and uncompromising - had shifted following his heartfelt explanation. She’d recognised something in him then … something achingly familiar. She’d recognised herself.
I sacrificed everything for him and he didn’t even care.
That phrase could have come from her own lips. It resonated within her. That was the moment - the realisation that she and Ben were linked. They had things in common that nobody else would or could understand. Both had made sacrifices for Jacob. Both had been hurt. There but for the grace of God. Could she forgive him? No. No, not yet. It was too soon…too raw. Would she fight for him? For his right to be a part of this? Oh yes. No question. He could have walked away in the jungle. He didn’t. He followed her back to the beach. Made the decision. Taken the more difficult road. He’d recognised what he’d done and…what? Wanted to atone? Maybe. That remained to be seen. What mattered now was the present. And here they were. Two perennial outsiders finding solace in each other’s company.
He suddenly opened his eyes, caught her staring at him. She didn’t drop her eyes; she met his gaze boldly. He tilted his head slightly and she raised an eyebrow. A smile … a flick of eyes and they both turned, walking back across the sand.
In silence.