AN: I honestly don't know where this came from. Don't know why but I seemed to have developed a liking for Jack and Simon situations.

Warnings: Nothing really, except maybe spoilers for the end of the book, I guess... (But, really, who would be reading Lord of the Flies fanfiction without first finishing the book? It's not even that long.) Lots of speculative, emotional drivel too. Maybe some slash...if you squint really, really hard.

Disclaimer: If I had written Lord of the Flies, the title would probably be one word, the Lord of the Flies would not make an appearance, and there would be dragons. Maybe some aliens too.

Critiques and suggestions on how I could improve would be very much appreciated, considering I did a really half-assed job of editing and I switch between tenses a lot.


They don't tell the adults how they die.

They don't tell the adults about most-all-things that happened on the island.

All of the boys are interrogated thoroughly, after a brief respite that the adults had enough sense to give and the parents had enough sense to insist on. And, through an unspoken agreement, none of them say anything about the events that had taken place other than a, "We just wanted to be rescued."

Of course they investigate, searching for bodies, for anything that would indicate what had transpired.

And, of course, they found nothing.

The two bodies had drifted out to sea, after all, and the others that had gone missing... well, their ashes had probably already washed away.

So, in the end, nothing is solved, everything remains a mystery, and the boys are finally allowed to return to their normal lives.

However, after the island, there are doubts whether anything will ever be normal again.


Jack, like the other choir boys, is invited to Simon's funeral.

The first thing he does is peer into the coffin and, with a strange mixture of annoyance and relief, found it to be empty, like he had expected. They don't have Simon's body. Of course not. The boys had left his body at the beach after... that horrible time, and it had no doubt drifted off to sea, never to be seen again.

Or so Jack hopes.

But, even if they found Simon's body, it wouldn't incriminate any of them. Fingerprints would've been washed off by the ocean, and the adults could easily believe that he had fallen off a cliff and drowned. It is logical, even quite likely, in fact, considering how Simon is a strange boy, one that no one understood, and that he had always been a bit weak, prone to faints.

Even so, Jack does not want Simon's body to be found.

It is too harsh a reminder, too cutting a memory.

All over again, he would remember that night. He would remember how it felt, holding those spears, to stab into Simon's prostrate body, to cut through the younger boy's skin, to hurt and hurt and hurt and kill.

Jack had not felt remorse after he realizes what he had done. He had easily brushed it off, back then, saying that, now, on the island, they had no time for sentimentalities. Feelings had become a weakness, so he discarded them. He had been chief, and one can't be a leader when one is too emotional.

Rescue had been the furthest thing from Jack's mind. He hadn't believed it would truly come.

But, it had.

And, when it finally did, saving them all from a horrifying end, Jack finally realizes, finally feels the full weight of what he has done.

He had killed.

Worse than that, he had killed a human being.

With his own two hands, Jack had helped stab Simon to death.

Maybe, if it had been anyone but Simon, Jack would not be so horrified. But, it had been Simon. And, Simon is, above all else, a fellow classmate and a fellow choir boy, even if he is weird and possibly-probably-batty.

Jack sometimes wonders if it hadn't been an accident that day, if, maybe, he had known exactly who it was but simply did not care. Maybe he had been filled with too much bloodlust, too much adrenaline, that he knowingly killed one of his own just to satisfy it.

They are scary thoughts, and Jack often finds himself sweating profusely at night, waking from a nightmare that he could not remember.

But, of course, in the end, what is done is done.

Simon is dead.

Jack had killed him.

Those facts would not change, and no amount of guilt or whispered apologies would change them.

Even so, Jack is not able to move forward. And, he simply does not know why.

Then, the invitation to Simon's funeral arrives.

Now, here he is, standing in line with the other children and adults in black, mourning the death of someone that he had killed.

It is all pretty ironic, really.

When it is Jack's turn to go up to the empty coffin, to say a few personal last words to the dearly deceased, he walks up more sure and certain than he feels. Once there, he suddenly discovers that he knows exactly what to say and what to do.

"Simon," he says, quietly, barely a whisper, "Simon, goodbye."

And, that is it. No more apologies, no more begging for forgiveness.

It is a small farewell accompanied by a simple bouquet of daffodils.

Jack knows that Simon would appreciate the gesture.

(Because he knows that Simon already forgave him, he will forgive himself.)


AN: Daffodils have a multitude of meanings, depending on what culture you refer to.

Some meanings are, according to wikipedia, "uncertainty", "chivalry", "respect", or "unrequited love".

I leave it up to you readers which one(s) you believe Jack intended. (I have a personal preference for the last two, but my opinions don't really count for much. xD)

...This was originally suppose to contain Ralph. Maybe I'll write a second chapter for him if I'm not so lazy. (I already have an idea of what to write, but it's not as good as Jack's...) And, this was suppose to have more implications of Jack/Simon, but I fail at writing romance, so... that really obscure flower thing at the end will have to do. 83;;