Sunlight in Shadows
Disclaimer: Lost and its characters belong to JJ Abrams and ABC.
Summary: After running away from Jack in the jungle, Desmond runs into someone else. Takes place after 2x03, "Orientation."
Running, he's running, running between the trees, weaving in and out, running even though he knows he's hopelessly lost. He's only been out in the jungle once before, the day he followed Kelvin, and he's gotten turned around somewhere or maybe the trees get up and move at night when no one can see, hiding the formerly clear paths.
He keeps on running. He has to get as far away as he can. Even if he never draws near the Elizabeth again, he has to keep running.
He trips again. Falls again. He hits the ground hard. Swiftly he turns around to look, but there's no one there, no shouting doctor with a gun this time.
How much time has passed?
Is the alarm going off?
Is the magnet reaching out hungrily?
Is it a System Failure?
He starts to get up, and the world tilts all around him.
The trees really do move, he thinks.
And then he's gone.
When he wakes up, it's night. He can hear someone talking. It sounds like a woman. She isn't speaking English.
He knows he should be afraid. But he's so tired. He can't remember the last time he slept without fear of missing the alarm, of not pushing the button.
He closes his eyes and sleeps.
The morning is bright with sunlight. He blinks up at the light, mystified by the motes dancing in the beams. He's forgotten what real sunlight looks like.
The woman speaks again. "Qui êtes-vous? D'où êtes-vous venu?"
It takes a while for his brain to recall the words, dredged up from schooldays long lost and forgotten. Who are you? Where did you come from?
He always liked studying other languages. Learning about other places, faraway places, fascinated him. He wanted to travel and see those places, walk foreign shores, stare up at strange stars.
He never dreamed he would one day yearn for home with such passion that there was nothing left to wish for, nothing left to hope for.
Her name is Danielle. In her own way, she is beautiful. She is strong and lean and her fires have almost burned down to ash, but not yet. Some of the embers still blaze with surprising heat.
"Are you one of them?" she asks him.
"Are you one of the hostiles?" he asks her.
He stares at her and she does not blink, nor look away. But slowly she lowers the hand that has been dangerously near her rifle. "You cannot escape the island," she says.
"I have to," Desmond says. "I have to find a way."
"Why?" Danielle asks. She stares at him with bright eyes, the eyes of an animal left in the wilderness too long, gone back to its primal roots.
He wishes he could tell her about Penny. But he does not have the words. And he left the photograph behind, the sole evidence he has that Penny truly existed, that he did not make her up in his mind in a desperate attempt to give his life some meaning, to assign some purpose to his days.
Without the photograph, he is adrift. Lost.
Without her, he is nothing.
Helplessly he stares at Danielle. And although he has not said a word, she nods in perfect understanding. So he is spared from having to speak, after all.
They share a meal. Danielle cooks, hunched over the fire. Desmond watches her. He knows nothing about having to survive in the jungle. He doesn't know yet whether he should be grateful to Kelvin for that much, at least.
He tells her about Swan station and the button. She nods from time to time, but she is humming a little, a light little tune over and over, and he realizes she is not listening.
He doesn't care. It feels good to have someone to talk to again, even if that person doesn't talk back.
He asks her how she ended up on the island, and how long she has been here.
"Sixteen years," she says harshly. She stares out at the jungle, her eyes burning.
The sun sinks. The stars come out. Night falls. The darkness is absolute.
He wakes with a start, hearing the alarm so close so loud it's too late! Gasping in terror, he struggles to sit up, to reach the computer, to push the button.
She stops him. She whispers in French, easing him back down.
He pulls her close. He closes his eyes and says her name.
She doesn't seem to mind that it's not her name.
In the morning she draws a crude map in the earth. She tells him the cove with the Elizabeth should only be a few miles away. He can find it easily.
He asks her to come with him.
She looks away. "I can't," she says.
He leaves while it's still early, before the heat of the sun is too intense. He walks with confidence, sure that he knows the way now.
Before long, he's running again.
END
Author's Note: Many thanks to Dev, who gave me the title for this story, and her endless patience with me.