A/N Sorry again for taking so long! I place all the blame completely on school.
Chris 3137 - Thanks! Your reviewsare especially nice, andI really appreciate it.
acsbabyangelgirl - heehee. No, Claire isn't pregnant again. I'll have you know that peanut butter on oreos is a snack enjoyed by many un-pregnant people... or maybe it's just me... : )
Chapter 8 – Sun
Sun woke with a start, a feeling of panic exploding in her head. She felt as if there was a large weight on her ribs. She sat up and looked frantically around. Everything was unfamiliar. Where was she?
Then she remembered – she was in Claire and Charlie's living room, on their couch, tangled in blankets. She knew where she was, but still felt stricken with panic.
It was raining; she could hear the soft patter coming from outside the window. Sun rose from the couch and walked to the window. She was wearing her white nightgown, the one with the blue ribbon at the collar. She had left her slippers at home. Her feet were cold. She sat down on the pretty window seat, looking out over the backyard. It was beautifully landscape, she thought idly, trying to distract herself from replaying the last two days in her head. But she began thinking about it anyway.
She had known something was wrong that day at the airport. She was going to run away from him, had every intention of leaving. She had been so frightened that night he came home with blood all over him.
But she hadn't left that day. Why? She had asked herself as she realized her nerve was failing her. Because something was so wrong.
He was escaping. She remembered realizing. He's trying to get away; he's still a good man! And she stayed with him. And the plane crashed and he didn't have to run any more… from whoever he was running from.
She dared not ask about it, because she didn't want to know. She was too afraid.
A clap of thunder resounded through her ears, shaking the house. It took Sun by such surprise that for a moment she thought it was a gunshot. Her hands flew to her mouth in terror before she realized it was just a storm. Her heart slowed a little, but she could still hear it, feel it aching.
She started to cry again. Soundless tears trickled down her face. She wanted to go home, home to Jin. She didn't care what happened if she stayed with him. She was convinced that it didn't matter; he would protect her from anything. She would be safe.
Jin never hit her.
Not once.
She'd lied to Claire. He had told her to.
That morning had been like any other. When she woke, Jin was already up, having taken a shower and made coffee. Sun put on her bathrobe and began her puttering around, making the bed, folding the towels. They comforted her, these odd jobs. Everything was being put into order.
Just before Jin was about to leave for work, there was a telephone call, and he answered it.
The moment he heard who was on the other line, his face fell, and he turned a sickly white color.
"Who is it?" Sun asked, alarmed.
He waved his hand at her, motioning for her to leave. There was pleading in his eyes. But she stayed seated at the table. If there was one thing she learned on the island, she needed to hold her ground every once in a while. And she needed to be a part of this. She knew this phone call had to do with whoever had been chasing Jin, and she was going to find out. It was time to stop being left in the dark, she had thought defiantly.
Jin muttered something into the phone that she couldn't hear. He looked at her again, almost pitiful, silently begging, and again, she said, "Who is it?"
He glared at her for not leaving and stormed out of the kitchen. She immediately followed him, angry now, throwing enraged questions on deaf ears.
Jin slammed the bathroom door and locked it. Sun began to scream at him.
"I'm sick of secrets! What can be so important, Jin? Why are you doing this to me?" She banged her fists fiercely on the door, and when he wouldn't answer, she leaned her forehead against the door in despair. Would he always be this way? She thought the lies and secrets had stopped.
She put her ear to the door, desperately trying to hear what he was urgently whispering into the phone. And then the doorknob turned, and he was facing her, a mixture of outrage and naked fear. He sighed deeply, and Sun knew from the defeated look on his face that he was going to explain.
He pressed the power button several times on the telephone. He raised it to the side of his face to be sure he couldn't hear the dial tone. There was no one on the other end.
And then he told her everything. The violence, the deceit. How he'd hated it. How he'd tried so hard to escape. How he'd been followed, how he'd feared for his life, but mostly hers. He thought they'd finally left him alone after the plane crash. And just now, they had called again, with threats to return immediately to Korea, or suffer the consequences.
And then he told her to run, because he couldn't bear to put her into danger. He looked down at the tiled floor when he said this, as if he was ashamed at how much he had already put her through.
"I don't care." Sun told him defiantly. "I want to stay with you. I have to."
"No." He said simply, holding her firmly by the shoulders. "We need to separate. At least until this dies down. I'll move again, change my name…"
Sun pulled away, completely horrified by what he was saying. She was suddenly very dizzy, and specks of black dotted the corners of her vision.
"How will I find you?" She asked, small and numb.
He looked at her, and she could see how much pain he was going through; more than hers, because he was the one sending her away. Somehow it made her feel a little stronger.
"I will find you."
"Soon?" She whispered.
"Soon."
And slowly, she walked up the mountainous stairs and packed her suitcase.
Presently, she wrapped her arms around her knees like a miserable schoolgirl.
Not all fairy tales end happily, she thought. To emphasize her point, the thunder shook the house again, and Willie woke up screaming.
Sun listened to Claire and Charlie as they went into their son's room and spoke softly and reassuringly, comforting him until he was calm again.
She wished more than anything that someone would comfort her instead.