(no subject)

[slybrunette]

Title: Their Greatest Fear
Fandom: Lost
Pairing: Kate Austen/Sun Kwon
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1064
Prompt: #51 - Humor
Progress: 11/100
Warnings: Character deaths. Also, a different take on the prompt Humor. This is the anti-humor.
Disclaimer: I don't own Lost

They were stripped of everything and everyone they loved, the life they had grown to know. And this wasn’t the sudden catastrophe, like the plane crash, quick and painful. This was agonizingly slow, like a stabbing that you can see coming years away, the hand coming slowing toward you in the striking motion but being powerless to stop it. The walls came crashing down around those you knew before yours began to shake and decay, just to let you know exactly what you were in for, sooner or later, being able to hear the screams of those already trapped under their own bricks of despair. So, they watched. Waited. Not knowing whether to spend their time preparing, bracing themselves for the inevitable, or to enjoy the time left with their loved ones. Those who ignored what waited over cliffs or beneath the unpredictable waves were hit hardest, like they had convinced themselves it wasn’t going to happen to them. That they were going to be the lucky ones, go untouched by the island’s cruel sense of humor (if you could call it that, and most didn’t).

 

Charlie disappeared after what happened to Claire. They found him a mile out of camp, dangling limply from a tree. Jack tried to bring him back but miracles are like lightening: they only strike once. People tried to subtly prepare him after she started showing symptoms, letting him know that there was a better place beyond here. But he ignored the hints, or at least he was too busy convincing himself that everything was going to be fine that he didn’t notice them. He didn’t accept it and when he tried, when he had to, it was too much.

 

People took that as a lesson, to not put off dealing with it. Procrastination when it comes to grief is a dangerous thing. So they set up more walls, hoping they would break the fall when the others came down. It worked for some, but for others, it… didn’t, to say the least. Jin tried to hold it in, to bottle everything up. There was still dirt under his nails from Sun’s grave that they dug, even though there was no body, when Michael tried to get him to eat. He must have pushed him too far too fast, because Jin just snapped. When they had the double funeral, they put their gravesites next to each other, hoping what couldn’t be mended in life could in death.

 

Kate wasn’t the same after that. It wasn’t just the loss of a close friend, her best friend. It was more potent than the death of a confidant. She just gave up. People knew what was going on between Kate and Sun for a while, it was impossible to keep secrets without someone finding out. The spread of tantalizing information couldn’t even be compared to a small town, gossip wise, the island was in a league of its own. The grapevine was thin and information spread as quickly as wildfire. Something discovered in the mid-morning was commonly known by dinner. With no TV and nothing to do but sweat and tan, a lesbian affair was, to say the least, juicy. Kate and Sun thanked any higher power willing to listen that Jin hadn’t picked up anymore English phrases over the years than to say “thank you” and “eat now.” But then They came and no one was thanking any higher power. They took three, and all that was left of Sun was a cracked coconut shell with ground herbs and a strewn pestle in her makeshift nurse’s tent. That and a shaky report from Hurley that he saw a flurry of feet wearing what he thought resembled Sun’s shoes being dragged into the jungle. Of course he was hit over the head in the scuffle and couldn’t be sure of anything. He died from his injuries a few days later. Kate went after them, taking her best guess as to what direction they went. That wasn’t unusual, whenever they came and took someone a search party went out. Every member was adamant that this time they would get them back, and every time they returned empty handed, sometimes with another body to add to the graveyard. Yes, this wasn’t the unusual part. But this time, Kate went alone. It was the kind of rash call that was expected of Kate. Reasoning was never her strong suit. But the grieving lover can do some very stupid things when coupled with no justice system and only a mirage of hope to hold on to. As Shannon so eloquently pointed out so many years ago, there were no rescue helicopters or code reds. They were alone in this. So you learned to get your own brand of revenge. They searched every place they thought she might think they would be, but every place was deserted.

 

The survivors always figured that if something happened to Kate, Jack and Sawyer would blame each other, point the finger outward to distract from the guilt within. But it was the exact opposite. They wouldn’t speak to anyone besides each other, ate their meals side by side, slept in tents that were pitched next to each other. Grief is funny that way. It makes you do things you would never have expected. So they woke, breathed, lived and died together, like some twisted version of brothers.

 

Deaths were like dominos; one led to other, which led to two more, which led to four more, and so on. A wave of mortality swept over the camp once every few months, each time leaving a portion left standing, left to see the next wave. Depending on the person, you either prayed for the interim or hoped, as the crest approached, that you wouldn’t live to see the other side. Some wanted to be the next to be buried, while other wanted to put it off as long as possible. As you glanced around the campfire you knew one of them would be the next to go, and looked back at the scrutinizing with the same thought: I don’t want to be the last. It was clear the notion scared people, they didn’t want to be the only one left. It was more terrifying than monsters or guns or the Others; absolute loneliness was their greatest fear. It says something, don’t you think?