No Return
When they were married, they'd done it small.
A boat, a seaworthy minister, the Good Book and a bottle of champagne. Des had wanted to invite at least Sayid and Hurley, but the former had been too hard to find and the latter didn't seem to respond to any of the invitations that arrived at his manor house.
Letters with no return address. They couldn't be found, not by the one man who wanted them found. Not by the man the minister asked for to give Penny away to her groom. There was no one else. Penny liked it better that way.
"It's like we're eloping," she said, twirling his tie and staring up with a soft grin as she leaned against his chest.
The minister said his words and left them to their celebrations. He left on the same little dinghy he'd ferried himself in on. Desmond thought of the Zodiac that Daniel Faraday had used to ferry over survivor after survivor from the Island, that every one of those people had died while he hovered just out of range. He could remember the heat on his face, the screaming--oh God, the screaming, Sun's screaming.
He woke up in cold sweats. Penny kissed away his fever, cool lips on his brow, a hand soothing at his sandpaper cheek to bring him back down, back to earth, back to her. Some nights he would cry. Never wake, simply sob into his pillow with muffled gasps. Penny smoothed back his hair, kissed his neck, cried with him, cried for him.
She never asked about the Island. He rarely spoke about the Island. But it was there. It was always there. Sometimes it stood between them, its entire width and bulk sinking into them, tearing bits off them as they stood too close to the edges.
She'd take his face in both her hands, cementing her to him.
The sound of the button, always the button, have to press the button, Pen. Saving the world. Just saving the world.
She would shake him, call out, slap him if she had to. And he always came back to her.
Some nights, when Desmond shivered and whimpered in the night, Penny stared at the ceiling and dared. She dared the Island to come back for him. She grit her teeth and growled, an animal defending the one she loved most. She dared her father, she dared those friends of his, she dared it all--she would go down swinging if they tried to take him back. She swung her fists at the sky and dared.
They danced on their wedding night. The air was cold. They were somewhere off the western shore of Canada. It could have snowed. He held her close, danced like a smitten boy at a high school dance. Kissed her brow, kept her tight against him. They wished every night could be like this. They knew, no matter how hard they wished, it could never be.
But they could try.
AN: The last one! Rejoice! This Valentine's Day, I have literally nothing to do, so I've decided to pick my 14 favorite pairings and write some sappy vignettes for them! Not all of them will be from one fandom, so if you're interested, check out my profile! So, Des and Pen were my second Lost OTP. I've never written either of them, so I hope they sound at least partially as wonderful as they are in my head. They're so awesome :D Hope you liked, leave some love, and STAY AWESOME!!
