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bA/N:/b iI don't own LotF or its characters. I never have, and except in the case of some bizarre scenario I can't even imagine, I probably never will./i
The sounds of sobbing slowly faded into sniffling, and the sniffling in turn melted away into awkward silence. At last the naval officer turned to face the dirty children. He grabbed Ralph's shoulder and roughly shook him. "Ralph!" he yelled. "Wake up! Wake up, boy!"
"Huh?" Slowly Ralph shook himself into consciousness. "What?" He was on a plane, and the boys all around him were staring. He shuddered when he met the eyes of the choir boy with red hair. His name sounded inside Ralph's mind like a horrible gong: Jack Merridew. Oh, God!
"You were crying in your sleep," the stewardess informed him sympathetically.
Ralph shook his head. A dream? But, how? It has seemed so...real...
"Where's Simon...an' Piggy...an' the litlun with the, the birthmark?" he asked the stewardess.
"Who?" she responded.
"I'm over here," piped up an undersized boy with bright eyes and black hair who wore a choir uniform identical to Jack Merridew's. "Whatsa matter?"
"I...I dreamed..." Ralph was still shaken. "The fire...and the rock...an', an', 'it's only us'..."
The poor stewardess was confused beyond all help. "What's only us?"
Ralph was slowly beginning to realize how ridiculous he sounded. "Nothing," he told the woman, "nothing..."
She shrugged and wheeled the empty food cart towards the front of the plane. Ralph glanced at the children staring at him and uncomfortably cleared his throat. Suddenly he was siezed by the impulse to touch his clothing. Yes, he was wearing his school sweater. Oh, God. He was safe...startled by his dream, slightly embarrassed by the eyes on him, but...safe.
Yet the memory of the dream refused to depart from him. The darkness of man's heart...
"What's 'only us'?" Simon was asking with benevolent interest. "What were you dreaming?"
"Yeah...what were you crying about?" He knew that voice from his dream. Jack Merridew.
"How'd you know...what they'd call me?" Piggy chimed in, looking mildly upset.
Ralph explained, "I dreamed we were on this island, see? And at first I thought it was a good island, an' we'd have fun 'till the grownups came to get us. Only..." he shuddered and the boys' eyes widened. "Things happened."
Jack snorted. "Like what?" he pressed.
Ralph shrugged. "Like...things." He knew better than to tell Jack, 'I dreamed you were the leader of an evil tribe of savages and you tried to sacrifice me'.
The boys whispered and nodded. "It was just a dream," somebody said in a voice mixed of scorn and reassurance.
Ralph nodded. "Just a dream," he repeated, looking out the window.
Directly below him was an island.
The island.
bA/N:/b iI don't own LotF or its characters. I never have, and except in the case of some bizarre scenario I can't even imagine, I probably never will./i
The sounds of sobbing slowly faded into sniffling, and the sniffling in turn melted away into awkward silence. At last the naval officer turned to face the dirty children. He grabbed Ralph's shoulder and roughly shook him. "Ralph!" he yelled. "Wake up! Wake up, boy!"
"Huh?" Slowly Ralph shook himself into consciousness. "What?" He was on a plane, and the boys all around him were staring. He shuddered when he met the eyes of the choir boy with red hair. His name sounded inside Ralph's mind like a horrible gong: Jack Merridew. Oh, God!
"You were crying in your sleep," the stewardess informed him sympathetically.
Ralph shook his head. A dream? But, how? It has seemed so...real...
"Where's Simon...an' Piggy...an' the litlun with the, the birthmark?" he asked the stewardess.
"Who?" she responded.
"I'm over here," piped up an undersized boy with bright eyes and black hair who wore a choir uniform identical to Jack Merridew's. "Whatsa matter?"
"I...I dreamed..." Ralph was still shaken. "The fire...and the rock...an', an', 'it's only us'..."
The poor stewardess was confused beyond all help. "What's only us?"
Ralph was slowly beginning to realize how ridiculous he sounded. "Nothing," he told the woman, "nothing..."
She shrugged and wheeled the empty food cart towards the front of the plane. Ralph glanced at the children staring at him and uncomfortably cleared his throat. Suddenly he was siezed by the impulse to touch his clothing. Yes, he was wearing his school sweater. Oh, God. He was safe...startled by his dream, slightly embarrassed by the eyes on him, but...safe.
Yet the memory of the dream refused to depart from him. The darkness of man's heart...
"What's 'only us'?" Simon was asking with benevolent interest. "What were you dreaming?"
"Yeah...what were you crying about?" He knew that voice from his dream. Jack Merridew.
"How'd you know...what they'd call me?" Piggy chimed in, looking mildly upset.
Ralph explained, "I dreamed we were on this island, see? And at first I thought it was a good island, an' we'd have fun 'till the grownups came to get us. Only..." he shuddered and the boys' eyes widened. "Things happened."
Jack snorted. "Like what?" he pressed.
Ralph shrugged. "Like...things." He knew better than to tell Jack, 'I dreamed you were the leader of an evil tribe of savages and you tried to sacrifice me'.
The boys whispered and nodded. "It was just a dream," somebody said in a voice mixed of scorn and reassurance.
Ralph nodded. "Just a dream," he repeated, looking out the window.
Directly below him was an island.
The island.