Title: The Light, The Girl, and The Song
Rating: G
Summary: Desmond and the girl in the picture. Pure speculation. Spoilers for 2.1 through 2.3 I suppose. Anything to do with Desmond.
Warnings: None
Status of Fic: Complete
Author's Notes/Disclaimer: I do not own the characters in this story, nor do I own any rights to the television show "Lost". They were created by JJ Abrams and Damon Lindelof and they belong to them, Touchstone, and ABC.
He stayed in front of the computer screen, having pressed the button already. Kelvin had gone out to find fresh food and Desmond offered to stay behind. As if he needed to offer anymore. They were the only ones down there now and were saving the world together. Scooting the chair back, he continued on his normal routine.
Going over to the record player, he skimmed through the titles before shrugging. He had to put it on, as it was his mantra. Mama Cass Elliot's voice rang out as the beginning words sounded out from the speakers. Humming along to the tune, he set to work at making breakfast while his mind traveled back to the picture by his bedside.
He couldn't remember the last time that they had spoken, he wondered where she was, how she was doing, if she had moved on…snapping out of his reverie, he shook his head at himself. He had done well the past few days of not thinking about her, but at times when he was doing the mundane, she seeped in and took over. They had something, back then, now time had passed and all he had to go on was the light in her eyes in a photograph.
He picked up a stack of papers from the kitchen table, letters that he had written her during last night's shift, and threw them in the trashcan as if it was normal for a man to write letters without sending them. Closing the lid, he steadied himself, trying not to think of the pain in his heart or the reason of why he kept taking more shifts these days. He didn't want to even attempt at sleeping; the beeping even haunted him in his dreams when he could fall into sleep.
Yawning to himself, he took off his clothes and turned on the hot water, determined to get her out of his mind, if not just for a while. Wrapping a towel around himself, he ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing the steam off of the mirror, hating the fact that even when the alarm wasn't sounding, he could hear it back in his mind. He supposed that in a way he was grateful for having to press the button, so that he didn't have to focus on all that went wrong with her.
The record suddenly skipped and Desmond's mind came back to him in a rush.
Kelvin had died.
He had been down in the area for three years alone.
Alone.
How he hated that word. It just poured into him and attacked everything that made him.
Turning off all the lights, he took his place behind the telescope, aligning the mirrors so that he could see properly and waited.
Like he always had been, and probably always would be.