fic: hanging on the shadow of our family tree, lost, jack/claire, r

[krickets]

hanging on the shadow of our family tree
lost, jack/claire, 1130 words, r
post-finale, estab, no reset, inspired by this song (thanks to falseeeyelashes ♥!)
written for slybrunette


Claire craves him.

Even now, her face goes crimson at the thought, at the truth of those words. She had never been one of those girls. She'd had boyfriends, and of course there'd been Thomas, but when it came right down to it, no one had ever consumed her the way Jack does now.

It's August and Claire is tired of Los Angeles, tired of smog and movie stars and bad traffic, tired of running into people that they know. And Jack must feel it too, because without much convincing, he agrees to move back home with her. He's out of his element there, a stranger, a man with no friends, no one but her. And maybe she tells herself she asks him because this is the only thing she's ever known and she wants Aaron to understand where his mother comes from, to experience it firsthand. But somewhere hidden, she knows that it's really to keep Jack close, to have him all to herself as much as possible.

"You're persistant," he tells her, slips behind her at the mirror on their last night in Los Angeles.

"No," she says to his reflection, pulls her hair into a loose ponytail. "You're just easy."

--

They start out at a tiny place in the city, just a transitional, two stories up, something to hold them until they get settled. Jack starts work at a clinic close by, just to pay the bills. Claire gets a job at a book shop, leaves Aaron with her mother during the day. But none of it is right.

After being on that island so long, with all the cars and people and all the racket from the street below, Claire hates it. Except at night, when she leaves the curtains open and the lights on, and Jack presses her against the wall and then onto the bed.

Claire always gasps when he takes her, her heels digging into the back of his thighs. Every time. She closes her eyes, doesn't look at the blackness of the windows, but she feels the eyes of the city on them, relishes in exposing to the rest of the world this secret that they keep so close. It somehow legitimizes what they are, makes them real. She wonders if Jack feels the same, wonders if that's why he never reaches for a light switch.

Once, in the early evening, she leaves the panes open, screams so loud that they can hear the tourists giggle from below, shouting catcalls and obscenities. It only makes her come harder, Jack too.

--

In the first six months, he goes back to the States too often for Claire's liking. He has to deal with Margo, he'll say. And then Sawyer's in a bind and it's Jack to the rescue. And so on. Once, he doesn't say what it's about, just that he has to go, but that it will be the last for a while.

Claire works in the garden of their new house. It's still small, but big enough, bigger than that apartment, with a sizeable work barn in the back, and plenty of space for Aaron to play when he gets older. Claire plants flowers, calls the nursery to move in some fruit trees, fills the space with lush greens and colors, and by then it feels like home.

--

It's night when Jack gets back, weeks later, and he finds Claire alone, Aaron off with a relative. Claire hears the bedroom door betray him from behind her as he enters, feels his weight on the bed beside her.

She lets him pull the covers back, press his lips to her shoulder.

"Hey," he whispers. "I'm here."

Claire reaches for him, crushes her mouth against his, feels his hand slip under her white gown when she kisses him, his cool fingers slipping past her thigh and up to her panties. She's got her hands on his buckle, and tears at it until it pops open, it's only moments until he's unbuttoned and unzipped and inside her, but Claire can't help but buck against his fingers, biting at his bottom lip, impatient and unsatisfied until she has what she wants. Finally he's free and she wraps her legs around him, slides his jeans over his hips, helps him move the cotton fabric of her panties out of the way enough for him to slip inside.

This is how it always is when he gets back -- this frantic, needy, fucking -- quick thrusts and toothy kisses, instinct taking over, niceties forgotten.

Claire clenches around him when she comes, grabs at the fabric at his back, calls out his name for what will only be the first time that night.

--

"I think I'll find a job," Jack says, after. "Something different."

Claire pulls a blue thread from the cotton sleeve of his t-shirt, shifts her weight on his chest. "You're a doctor, Jack. It's what you are."

"Not what I am," Jack says, brushes her hair from her face.

"Well what then?" Claire asks.

"I don't know," he says.

Claire finds that refreshing, and truthful. For so long on that island, everyone told themselves that they were finding out what and who they really were. But that's not the truth. Because the truth is they only found out who they were in the worst of times. But what about the best of times? And what about those mundane moments that make up so much of their lives? Who are they then? And which one is more truthful?

And Claire wants to say these things now, but instead, she says, "You're beautiful."

Jack laughs, "I'm beautiful?"

"What?"

"Nothing... no." He says, twines his fingers with hers. "It's just no one's ever said that to me before."

Claire kisses him, almost chastely. "Get used to it."

--

Jack finds work as a carpenter and Claire thinks it's fitting, just another way to work with his skilled hands. She tells him it's not that different from being a doctor, that a good piece of furniture can last generations, become a part of people's lives. She teases him about his hero complex, about a Jewish carpenter that she once knew. Jack laughs, steals a kiss, makes her forget her train of thought.

He starts working on his own pieces in the barn with scraps he brings from work, spends all of his free time designing and creating. Claire brings him sandwiches, gives him ideas, tells him when he's got a bad one, tells him he'll have to teach Aaron when he gets older.

She still hasn't figured out how this all is going to work, but she is quite sure that it is going to work.

It's right now.

And that's enough.

-fin.

Comments

[gigglemonster.livejournal.com]

Aw this is fantastic!
Jack is JESUS! I LOVE it lol ;)
This whole thing makes me really happy actually! That whole section about people finding out who they really are, Claire telling Jack he's beautiful because of his honesty. I love that so much, so perfect!
Also smokin'! You brought out that frantic, needy feel to it really well.
And yay for them getting a good ending :)
♥!!

[crickets.livejournal.com]

Well not entirely Jesus, but...

Thank you! I don't know how to respond to this. I just wrote it so I'm still processing. I'm glad you liked it! Hah, okay I knew I had to work some sexy stuff in here so there it is.

For a while this had no plot, it was just Jack and Claire doing it in windows. *nods*

But then the deeper, more important stuff finally came to me. Uh huh.

the scathing comment i just promised

[slybrunette.livejournal.com]

TV On The Radio, what up! (aka i love that song)

I'm not a hundred percent sure I've ever seen J/C, but in Australia instead of LA. Maybe I'm forgetting something, but I was instantly intrigued by this change of pace. The last two lines of the first section are perfect, and she's right he is easy.

She closes her eyes, doesn't look at the blackness of the windows, but she feels the eyes of the city on them, relishes in exposing to the rest of the world this secret that they keep so close. It somehow legitimizes what they are, makes them real. She wonders if Jack feels the same, wonders if that's why he never reaches for a light switch.

Dude, that's pure poetry and so damn beautiful. The image of them with the windows open and lights on, daring people to look, almost showing off. They damn well really can't do that in public considering, and I love the bit of defiance here. Your Claire is very vivid, vibrant, more so than on the show, in the way that I enjoy her.

I also love that you managed to work Sawyer in here. Of course.

"You're a doctor, Jack. It's what you are."

"Not what I am," Jack says, brushes her hair from her face.

"Well what then?" Claire asks.

"I don't know," he says.

Hello totally conflicted truth. It's sparse, short lines, but they say so damn much.

I love that he becomes a carpenter, and this little life they settle into, unsure of anything but that it works right now, and right now is good enough. I love that sentiment, this living in the moment.

This was wonderful, thank you so much! You did a fabulous job!

Re: the scathing comment i just promised

[crickets.livejournal.com]

Yeah I'm pretty sure I've never seen them in this setting either. I thought it would be something different so I went for it. Glad it worked!

I am so glad you liked the window thing. I felt iffy about it, but it kind of came to me when I was going to sleep last night. Actually, the line "Claire craves him" came first and then the window thing came later. I was trying to form a fic around the first thing. Heh.

I'm glad the dialogue worked. When I first started, there was practically no dialogue at all, but I managed to squeeze some out, heh. (Hence sparse and short, it's my specialty.)

I am so thrilled you like this, and I promise more is coming tomorrow. I just couldn't push through and had to work on something else.

[daybreak777.livejournal.com]

I love this world you create for them. Kinda don't want it to end for me or for them. It seems very private and intense in a way living on the island never got to be. I missed Sawyer a little bit but only a little. ;)

For a while this had no plot, it was just Jack and Claire doing it in windows. *nods*
This would have been totally fine with me. :-)

[crickets.livejournal.com]

Thank you my dear! I kind of missed Sawyer too, but I did squeeze him in a tiny bit. Consider it a shout-out. Heh. But this was really their story. I really have fun writing them, I don't know why.

This would have been totally fine with me. :-) Hee! Good to know. If only I was better at writing smut I would totally write Jack/Claire in windows all the time. ♥!

[jaydblu.livejournal.com]

This is really very good! I like the atmosphere and the world you've created for them.

[crickets.livejournal.com]

Well thank you very much. And thanks for taking the time to read and review! :) Much appreciated.

[angela-weber.livejournal.com]

*curls up in a ball and lives in fic* This is so beautiful. Your writing style is fantastic--it's really poetic and lyrical without being too much; so easy to get lost in. I really love the world you've constructed here, how it's so easy and normal and yet not, because it's them, and they're never going to be quite normal.

For so long on that island, everyone told themselves that they were finding out what and who they really were. But that's not the truth. Because the truth is they only found out who they were in the worst of times. But what about the best of times? And what about those mundane moments that make up so much of their lives? Who are they then? And which one is more truthful?

That's a really lovely paragraph because there is so much truth to it--haha, bad word choice, but that's really how I feel about it. We've seen these characters go through so much, in so many different situations--which version is the right one?

Gah. This is really wonderful. I seriously loved it.

[crickets.livejournal.com]

*curls up in a ball and lives in fic*

I think you just epitomized my total goal when writing most fics. Hee.

And yes, sadly, they will never be normal. Well, at least they can be their own special kind of normal.

Thank you so, so much for reading this and leaving such lovely feedback. Really means a lot to me! :)

[dazzlebug.livejournal.com]

Oh this was just YUMMY in fic form. I love their scenes together and I really agree with what everyone else has said, your writing style is so poetic. It actually reminds me of what Chuck Palahniuk said in the afterword of Fight Club: he wanted to write a story that focuses only on the core of each single moment and then moves on. Your writing does this, except in a more hopeful, happy and poetic manner. I love it.

I also really like that you set them in Australia, and I can totally see Jack setting up shop as a carpenter. It fits with the setting. A doctor in LA, sure. But a carpenter in Australia... I don't know, the two somehow seem to go hand in hand (no pun intended).

Really loved this.
♥

[crickets.livejournal.com]

Hah, yummy huh? Thank you so much Kayl. I didn't expect you to read this. (You're full of surprises these days, really.)

That paraphrase from Chuck Palahniuk really resonates with what I try to do as a writer. So I'm glad that comes off. If I get too caught up in the unimportant details, things get pretty clunky pretty fast.

I'm really glad you liked the setting. I thought I'd try something different. I'm not sure how often I've set any of my fics in LA (it gives me nothing culturally to work with, so vast and empty and concrete... unless I was writing a story about skateboarders...) But they've mostly been in the states. I thought I'd switch it up.

I like the idea of Jack giving up medicine and living a more simple life. The whole saving people thing, that in itself is an addiction anyway. Like an alcoholic working as a bartender huh?

He could probably build a bar though... ;)

[siluria]

I love the domesticity of this, and I have to admit I'm developing a little bit of a weakness for Jack/Claire - I think that's mostly down to you! :)

[crickets.livejournal.com]

I don't know whether to apologize for that or dance for joy? Can I do both?

Thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed this! Maybe I'll write some more of them! ;)

[siluria]

Of course you can do both.... and them maybe go write more ;)

[bebitched.livejournal.com]

And now I have this stupid grin on my face because guh! So perfect.

She closes her eyes, doesn't look at the blackness of the windows, but she feels the eyes of the city on them, relishes in exposing to the rest of the world this secret that they keep so close. It somehow legitimizes what they are, makes them real.
This is so poetic and just right.

And that last scene! Jesus Jack, lol.

Love!

[crickets.livejournal.com]

Aw, yay for stupid grins!

Thank you so much honey! I'm glad you liked that part.

Hah, well I couldn't help it, carpentry and saving people('s souls) -- hand in hand right?

Thank you!

[holycitygirl.livejournal.com]

Oh I love him calling her beautiful. And the frantic coupling, ah, yes. *sigh*

Excellent job, darlin'. I can just see this life quite vividly.

[crickets.livejournal.com]

Hee, thank you! Darlin' -- you're so cute. :D

Thanks for reading!