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novin_haYesterday seemed to be a good day for drabbling, with the sky alight with firebolts and everything... My Internet connection died and I decided to take it as my cue to go to sleep and as I was making my bed I had an idea that wouldn't go and that I was afraid I'd forget by the time it was morning.
So I wrote a drabble at 2 AM today and being told it's postable, I post it indeed. Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dark_vanessa, dedicated to pellamerethiel (because you told me to write it, kind of ;)
I know this being in English is weird, especially as the fandom I write it for is Polish, but - that's how this came to me. So I did not ask questions. It's not me being snobbish. It's me being lazy.
LOST fanfiction.
A bit more than 200 words. AU.
They are told that the shared hallucination they’ve had is nothing rare among “victims of this kind of accidents” which even to Boone’s naïve ears sounds kind of ridiculous, because how many such accidents there are, and how impossible that is?
Yet this must have been a hallucination. He is living proof of it.
Shannon tells him in secret she remembers him dying. She remembers herself dying.
They are aware that a lot of time must have passed by the roundness of Sun’s stomach. And how would they know so much about one another anyway? They don’t ask for answers, though.
They exchange long looks with other passengers in corridors of the facility but they hardly speak to anyone else besides each other. Shannon seems to be intent on avoiding Sayid altogether and Boone does not ask why, though he has a good idea. Not asking seems to be the theme these days.
Except for the staff of the facility, of course. They are intent on questions. Like “do you think about dying? Do you dream about dying? Do you remember anything after you died? In the hallucination?”
Boone does not ask Shannon any questions when she does not knock on his door at night and lies down next to him, shivering, and he hugs her tight. Her feet and hands are cold.
.
So I wrote a drabble at 2 AM today and being told it's postable, I post it indeed. Thanks to
dark_vanessa, dedicated to pellamerethiel (because you told me to write it, kind of ;)I know this being in English is weird, especially as the fandom I write it for is Polish, but - that's how this came to me. So I did not ask questions. It's not me being snobbish. It's me being lazy.
LOST fanfiction.
A bit more than 200 words. AU.
They are told that the shared hallucination they’ve had is nothing rare among “victims of this kind of accidents” which even to Boone’s naïve ears sounds kind of ridiculous, because how many such accidents there are, and how impossible that is?
Yet this must have been a hallucination. He is living proof of it.
Shannon tells him in secret she remembers him dying. She remembers herself dying.
They are aware that a lot of time must have passed by the roundness of Sun’s stomach. And how would they know so much about one another anyway? They don’t ask for answers, though.
They exchange long looks with other passengers in corridors of the facility but they hardly speak to anyone else besides each other. Shannon seems to be intent on avoiding Sayid altogether and Boone does not ask why, though he has a good idea. Not asking seems to be the theme these days.
Except for the staff of the facility, of course. They are intent on questions. Like “do you think about dying? Do you dream about dying? Do you remember anything after you died? In the hallucination?”
Boone does not ask Shannon any questions when she does not knock on his door at night and lies down next to him, shivering, and he hugs her tight. Her feet and hands are cold.
.
