Erode (Esau & Jacob, R)
Title: Erode
Fandom: LOST
Characters: Esau and Jacob
Rating: R (violence)
Word Count: 771
Summary: Getting even is just another way of playing fair, Esau thinks. (for fc_smorgasbord , hold still, i'm trying to kill you)
Esau treads through the jungle on legs that are no longer truly his own. It is easier, more efficient, to rip through the trees, to destroy everything in his path, but it's not enough.
Jacob fears him more like this.
Like a man, he trips over jagged rocks, and like a man, he swears loudly when he falls to the ground. He grabs at the branch buried in his thigh, grunts as he rips it out.
Unlike a man, he does not bleed.
His solitude is broken by the clicking of a tongue, and Esau bares his teeth. He won't have a woman as dead as he is interrupt him from his task. "What do you want?"
"You can't kill him," she says. It's not a request, or an order to obey. It's a simple statement of fact.
A fact he disagrees with.
He's lived among men, bad, violent men, long enough to learn that anything that can bleed can die. And Jacob bleeds, bleeds from the nose and the throat and the gut, bleeds like he has an ocean to spare. Jacob bleeds, and Esau will kill him. "You don't get to decide what happens anymore, Mother."
She reaches for his arm, her touch weightless and insubstantial. "You shouldn't kill him," she amends, and he finds a small victory in the worry in her voice. "Don't punish Jacob. He's... still too gentle. He's not ready to accept this responsibility."
He laughs at her hollow lies, and she does not follow as he continues his trek.
Jacob lies flat and pale on the beach, and for a short instant Esau allows himself to hope he's succeeded this time, before catching the slight rise of his brother's chest. Sighing, he reaches for the knife at his belt. "Good morning, Jacob."
Esau's shadow blocks the sun from his body, and Jacob twitches, his eyes remaining closed. "You'll be happy to hear that your latest attempt was... extremely painful."
"I won't be happy until you're dead," Esau growls. He was so certain not even Jacob could survive falling from a cliff into the ocean.
Jacob looks up at him with weary eyes. His hair is stained with blood where he must have bashed his head against a rock. "What will you try today?"
"Something simple and direct," he says, and the corners of Jacob's mouth tense and twist to hold in a cry as Esau drops his weight onto his damp body, his knee in Jacob's stomach. "I'm going to cut out your heart."
Jacob shifts his head in the sand, the glare of the sun emphasizing the bruise under his right eye, the dark pink line that stretches across his throat. Esau's hand hovers over him, and Jacob-
waits.
Feeling cheated, Esau grits his teeth, his breath coming out with a hiss. "Aren't you going to fight back?"
Jacob blinks up at him with blood-shot eyes, sand clinging to his lashes. "Why should I?"
"You don't think I can kill you."
"I think... you're not trying hard enough." At this, Esau drives his hand down, the tip of the knife pressing into the flesh above his brother's heart. Jacob makes a tiny sound, like a scared, cornered animal. Esau cackles in triumph. Maybe, he doesn't need to kill him.
Maybe, it's not enough.
How much sweeter would his revenge be, he wonders, if they simply continued this game of spilling blood. If he can't kill Jacob, then he will hurt him, cut into him over and over until he's as empty as Esau.
The scars heal, but he can make new ones, turn Jacob into a hideous creature that will stare at his own broken body in the ocean that is the edge of their prison, their shared tomb, and finally Jacob will know.
We are the same.
Jacob grips Esau's wrist, pulling down, slicing deeper into his chest. "Do it," he whispers. Begs. "Kill me, brother."
A cold weight settles in Esau's chest, a fist tightening around his lungs, and dead men shouldn't need so badly to breathe. "Jacob-" The pink line quivers as Jacob swallows, and it sounds more like a curse than his own name ever did.
Jacob already knows what he is.
The knife shudders in his hand, and Jacob gasps in pain. Esau realizes their mother was right, Jacob is too gentle for this. He lets the weapon fall to the sand, and presses his knuckles into his stinging eyes. Jacob's body falls limp under his knee.
"Please," Jacob moans, and Esau isn't supposed to cry.
A dead man isn't supposed to feel anything.
"Maybe tomorrow," he chokes.
Fandom: LOST
Characters: Esau and Jacob
Rating: R (violence)
Word Count: 771
Summary: Getting even is just another way of playing fair, Esau thinks. (for fc_smorgasbord , hold still, i'm trying to kill you)
Esau treads through the jungle on legs that are no longer truly his own. It is easier, more efficient, to rip through the trees, to destroy everything in his path, but it's not enough.
Jacob fears him more like this.
Like a man, he trips over jagged rocks, and like a man, he swears loudly when he falls to the ground. He grabs at the branch buried in his thigh, grunts as he rips it out.
Unlike a man, he does not bleed.
His solitude is broken by the clicking of a tongue, and Esau bares his teeth. He won't have a woman as dead as he is interrupt him from his task. "What do you want?"
"You can't kill him," she says. It's not a request, or an order to obey. It's a simple statement of fact.
A fact he disagrees with.
He's lived among men, bad, violent men, long enough to learn that anything that can bleed can die. And Jacob bleeds, bleeds from the nose and the throat and the gut, bleeds like he has an ocean to spare. Jacob bleeds, and Esau will kill him. "You don't get to decide what happens anymore, Mother."
She reaches for his arm, her touch weightless and insubstantial. "You shouldn't kill him," she amends, and he finds a small victory in the worry in her voice. "Don't punish Jacob. He's... still too gentle. He's not ready to accept this responsibility."
He laughs at her hollow lies, and she does not follow as he continues his trek.
Jacob lies flat and pale on the beach, and for a short instant Esau allows himself to hope he's succeeded this time, before catching the slight rise of his brother's chest. Sighing, he reaches for the knife at his belt. "Good morning, Jacob."
Esau's shadow blocks the sun from his body, and Jacob twitches, his eyes remaining closed. "You'll be happy to hear that your latest attempt was... extremely painful."
"I won't be happy until you're dead," Esau growls. He was so certain not even Jacob could survive falling from a cliff into the ocean.
Jacob looks up at him with weary eyes. His hair is stained with blood where he must have bashed his head against a rock. "What will you try today?"
"Something simple and direct," he says, and the corners of Jacob's mouth tense and twist to hold in a cry as Esau drops his weight onto his damp body, his knee in Jacob's stomach. "I'm going to cut out your heart."
Jacob shifts his head in the sand, the glare of the sun emphasizing the bruise under his right eye, the dark pink line that stretches across his throat. Esau's hand hovers over him, and Jacob-
waits.
Feeling cheated, Esau grits his teeth, his breath coming out with a hiss. "Aren't you going to fight back?"
Jacob blinks up at him with blood-shot eyes, sand clinging to his lashes. "Why should I?"
"You don't think I can kill you."
"I think... you're not trying hard enough." At this, Esau drives his hand down, the tip of the knife pressing into the flesh above his brother's heart. Jacob makes a tiny sound, like a scared, cornered animal. Esau cackles in triumph. Maybe, he doesn't need to kill him.
Maybe, it's not enough.
How much sweeter would his revenge be, he wonders, if they simply continued this game of spilling blood. If he can't kill Jacob, then he will hurt him, cut into him over and over until he's as empty as Esau.
The scars heal, but he can make new ones, turn Jacob into a hideous creature that will stare at his own broken body in the ocean that is the edge of their prison, their shared tomb, and finally Jacob will know.
We are the same.
Jacob grips Esau's wrist, pulling down, slicing deeper into his chest. "Do it," he whispers. Begs. "Kill me, brother."
A cold weight settles in Esau's chest, a fist tightening around his lungs, and dead men shouldn't need so badly to breathe. "Jacob-" The pink line quivers as Jacob swallows, and it sounds more like a curse than his own name ever did.
Jacob already knows what he is.
The knife shudders in his hand, and Jacob gasps in pain. Esau realizes their mother was right, Jacob is too gentle for this. He lets the weapon fall to the sand, and presses his knuckles into his stinging eyes. Jacob's body falls limp under his knee.
"Please," Jacob moans, and Esau isn't supposed to cry.
A dead man isn't supposed to feel anything.
"Maybe tomorrow," he chokes.