Sayid's Hands

following "In Translation "

Sun

The ground always pleased her. It was never hard or harsh here as she lowered her forehead against it. Today it felt cool to her skin through her bangs, with a slight dampness; comforting in its sameness.

She slid her hands, palms up, along the terrain the length of her folded body towards her bottom. She breathed slowly, deeply, noting the rich smell of earth. She pressed her stomach against her thighs, compressing on the inhalations, relaxing on the exhalations. In. Out. Tight. Loose.

She stopped her breath, and counted evenly, noting the stretch of muscle in her back, her thighs, the crumbles of sand and earth against her forehead, the tops of her hands. She concluded the count and resumed breathing. She pulled her arms forward, and using her hands as little as possible, straightened her back to a kneeling position. Whole. Done.

Sun brushed her bangs and forehead, her hands lightly, and looked at her garden in the early morning light. The quiet satisfaction it provided was still there, waiting for her.

She studied the growth before her, the variations since yesterday, what area required care. She was pleased to see that nothing had wreaked havoc here in the night. No plants were trampled, no stalks snapped. Despite all that was going on away from the garden, here all was well.

Sun smiled, trying to ease the quiet of this place into her spirit. It was good to be in a place of contentment. Performing the daily pattern would help to return to that state. At least while she was here.

She uncurled her legs and moved to a corner, near the herbals. Weeding was done right to left. Watering left to right. Balance for east and west. Here there was harmony. Here the language spoken was not. Secrets did not exist. There was no need for forgiveness.

She reached, again appreciating the pull of muscles, and decisively plucked a weed near the row of bitter ginger. She placed the offending plant beside her and reached for the next. After clearing the meadowsweet of weeds, she allowed herself the joy of raking her fingers in the soil, catching some in her palm. She lifted her hand to her face and inhaled. This was the smell of life's simplicity. She examined the small clumps adhering to her fingers, feeling her eyes swim. She lowered her hand and gently scattered its contents. She rubbed her thumb and index finger together until her throat opened.

She addressed the betony. Using her left hand, she wrapped her fingers around the hairy stalk, tenderly bending it to achieve better grasp of a weed with her right. The betony's hair was coarse, and prickled her palm.

"Sun." An accented male voice broke the quiet.

The sound caused her to start, pulling weed and herb alike. She tried to climb to her feet while turning to face the danger, resulting in neither, landing flat on her back. She looked up into the face of Sayid, the two plants clutched to her chest, her eyes huge in her face.

"Are you all right?" he squatted next to her. His slid a hand under her shoulder, covered her wrist with the other hand, and helped her to a sitting position. "I'm very sorry. I didn't intend to frighten you." His face creased in contrition and concern.

She thought to close her mouth, and began to breathe deeply to quiet the heaving of her chest. She was aware that she had to appear ridiculous, and cursed adrenalin's effects, wishing to simply disappear.

"Yes," she gasped. "I am fine." He released her wrist, but remained next to her. "I was …working," she gestured with the plants, twisting slightly at the waist, towards the plot. "In the garden."

She had nothing to conceal anymore, yet his presence made her nervous. This was, after all, the man who declared that she understood more than Korean. Fortunately, or perhaps not, no one had heeded him. If they had, perhaps Jin would not have been beaten so by Michael. Perhaps she and Jin…… She allowed the thought to wilt and die.

Despite her newly cleared slate, his ability to observe what others missed made Sun uncomfortable.

He looked past her shoulder to the straight rows, and nodded. He removed the hand from her shoulder. His gaze returned to hers. "Would you like some water?"

She nodded, mute. Her breathing was returning to normal.

He shrugged the ubiquitous knapsack to the ground, and after some rooting, produced a bottle of water. Sayid unscrewed the cap and offered it to her.

She tossed the weed to the small pile now on her left and reached to accept. His fingers brushed hers as the bottle was passed. She distantly noted their warmth, as she drank a small mouthful. The water did help. Sun placed the container on the ground and dabbed her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I came for some yarrow," he stood and studied the garden now.

Did he know the herb's appearance?

"Jack said that his supply is exhausted, and you are cultivating a crop." He returned his gaze to her.

"Do you have a headache?" she asked, noticing for the first time the look of strain about his eyes. She turned to face the herbs and tucked her legs under her.

Yarrow was in the row closest to her, its pleasantly fragrant white flower at face level. She laid the displaced betony near the water bottle, and slipped the fingers of both hands under a flower's base.

"Yes." Sayid collected the betony and crouched beside her.

She pulled the flower from the stalk, and placed it carefully between them. "Did you know that it's also called Soldier's woundwort?" She glanced at him, adding a few leaves to the flower.

His eyes were amused as he shook his head,

Sun looked back to the plants. She could feel him watching her hands. "It's more effective dried. You'll need to make an infusion."

His steady gaze was unsettling. She was not accustomed to such scrutiny since leaving Korea.

"I haven't had tea since we crashed," he said slowly, almost as a revelation to himself. "Will I need to down it quickly as a child, or will I be able to sit on the beach and sip?"

She looked at his face. His eyes were still trained on her. He was smiling softly. Easily she could picture the child in him with that smile. Her lips turned up in response. "You should ask Locke for some honey. It is more ….tasty?... that way."

Sayid looked at the plant in his hands. He leaned from the waist, reaching to the small pile of earth from which the betony had been plucked. He carefully brushed it to one side, then burrowed with his fingers into the soil.

Sun watched his hand as he dug. His skin was such a deep, warm color, reminding her of wild flower honey. His long fingers loosened the soil easily. He scooped a handful and carefully positioned it to the side. He moved with an ease that fit here. Another scoop, more soil.

He set the plant into the hole, then continued to hold the stalk, while deliberately pressing the small tangle of roots beneath the surface with the other hand. She stared at the bones of his hands, as they seemed to dance with the movements of his fingers; silky, dark hairs lightly tangling beneath the bone of his wrists.

He lightly patted around the flora and rested back on his heels, dusting his hands together. His left arm dropped to his side as he rubbed his thumb in a run across the pads of his fingers.

"Thank you," said Sun, feeling her pulse quicken. She swallowed and looked at him with a sideways glance. His eyes met hers. Moments passed. She looked back to his hand.

It was still but relaxed, fingers curled loosely.

Without effort, she could feel his hand touching her, cupping her breast, tracing her chin. She closed her eyes and could feel the whisper of a finger on her eyebrow, the tip of her ear. Would he taste sweet, like honey, as she guided his finger into her mouth with her tongue?

Sun opened her eyes, taking great care to direct her gaze to the garden. She swallowed again, and dampened her lips with her tongue.

"Do I take all of this?" He broke the silence.

She slowly turned her face to see that he was holding the flowers and leaves in his palm, and nodded. "Yes. It's not dried so you need more." She kept her lids shuttered.

"Thank you." She heard the backpack settle into place.

"If you see Jack, you can tell him that I'll bring a new supply to the caves later." She needed him to go; yet she was detaining him.

"If I see him."

Sun steeled herself and looked up at him. "Don't forget to see Locke."

He nodded, "Yes." He turned and started back into the jungle.

Sun watched him disappear, heading towards the beach. She allowed her back to curve and hoped that he wasn't being so observant this time.