|Protector Of The Small (a small bit from The Best Years but maybe my favourite.)
||[Jul. 12th, 2010|01:19 am]
Emo Kid Sid
Protector of the Small.
Mikhail's body had washed up on shore. It had been a couple days since anybody had seen him, but there was always hope that he'd come back. He always did, but this... he wasn't coming back from this. They gave him a proper burial and marked his grave with a wooden cross, just like the many others scattered around the Island.
Levi sat awake in the tent Richard was kind enough to supply, listening to the campfire outside, and to the quiet chatter of the people sitting around it. He couldn't sleep, thinking about Mikhail on the beach that morning, soaked and bloody and burned. He'd broken his promise to never leave, to not get himself killed. Levi sighed, fiddling idly with the eye patch in his hand. He felt too empty, somehow too sad, to cry.
They seemed to be dwindling.
Goodwin was always nice and neighbourly. He liked to talk about football which Levi knew nothing about and had no interest in whatsoever, but he'd tried to understand what Goodwin told him about it, and there was always an extra sandwich for him when he visited the Barracks at lunch time. But the real reason Goodwin's death broke his heart was because it broke Juliet's.
It was unfortunate about Colleen and Danny. They died, like most of them seemed to nowadays, following orders. Most of the Others, Levi thought to be good people, nice people, and the Picketts were no exception. There had been several other Others - Ivan, Diane, Isabel, Greta, Bonnie, and more - who had been killed. Some, Levi didn't know so well. It didn't mean he didn't mourn their loss.
Ethan, he cared about much less. Ethan, who liked to stand far too close to him, and stare for far too long at him. Ethan, who had taken Claire, and most certainly, Levi was convinced, raped her. "Better her than me," he thought selfishly. But he still didn't care that Ethan was dead. He'd never got that stupid dog, by the way, but maybe Vincent would like the small house they'd put together.
It hurt to hear about Tom's death. Tom Friendly absolutely lived up to his name. Though he would politely decline when Tom asked him out on dates (there weren't many of Tom's type on the Island), Levi enjoyed spending time in his company. He was always good for a laugh and a drink, and he was one of the few who remembered Levi's birthday, and was kind enough to always have a gift to give every year.
Although Bea seemed cold and uncaring to most of the world, she had a good heart and a friendly smile when she put in a little effort. Levi knew she'd had some sort of feelings for Mikhail, and that put somewhat of a rift between them. (With so few people on such a small Island, perhaps it was so much easier to fall in love with one another.) It was awful to see Mikhail have to gun her down. And then there was the guilt brought on by the briefest moment of uncaring Levi had when he'd felt glad for her death. Mikhail was his, and now she couldn't have him. Then again, he couldn't either, now. He wished he could apologize for the awful thoughts he had that she'd never know about. And he wished she could have sat with him that day, as he knelt by that grave, and spoke to the cross and freshly packed dirt. They could have comforted each other, and she would have understood his loss.
He was scared for Juliet, and wished he had some sort of contact with her. There was Ben, also, who he worried about. As much as he wanted to hate Benjamin, he absolutely couldn't. And if he were killed, who would lead them?
Laughter came in from outside. What could they possibly have to laugh about? Levi thought, but then again, he didn't really care too much. He may not have cried, but he did laugh a little bit that afternoon. He'd put on the eye patch and laughed at himself, because he just couldn't cry, and it felt like such a silly thing to do, and it felt wrong. So he took it off and just felt empty again.
It was a while before things grew quiet, and even longer before someone slipped into the tent. "Hello, Levi," he said.
At first, Levi thought maybe it was Richard, but soon realized he'd never seen this man before. "Who are you?"
"My name's Jacob," he said casually. "May I sit down?"
"Yes," Levi said, allowing the man to sit on the cot with him. "You're Jacob...." It felt like the island equivalent of being star-struck.
"I'm sorry about what happened to your friend," Jacob said.
"Could you have stopped it? Or.... or can you fix it?" Levi asked hopefully.
"No, I'm sorry," Jacob apologized again, sounding genuine. "I can't do that."
"Why are you here? I mean, I didn't mean for that to sound rude, but--"
"It's quite alright." Jacob assured, amused. "I understand. Just wanted to check up on you."
"Don't suppose you'll tell me why?"
"You're one of the special ones," Jacob shrugged, not giving any more explanation.
"I have a question for you," Levi started. "Why did you tell Richard to give me to Mikhail?"
"Because you needed him." That struck something inside Levi. Something deep and fragile in the pit of his stomach, and he fought the tears that were finally threatening to come forward. "Get some rest. You need to be strong in the coming weeks." Jacob stood, preparing to go. "Oh, and Levi? Before I leave...." He offered his hand and Levi shook it. His only explanation was, "In case I need you."