I'm Learning Things I Didn't Want To Know
Aug. 29th, 2010 05:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tellshannon815Title: I'm Learning Things I Didn't Want To Know
Characters: Desmond, Sayid.
Pairings: Desmond/Sayid
Rating: PG
Warnings: AU. Potentially spoilery if you're not familiar with The Time Traveller's Wife.
Summary: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wandersfound, who requested "books" at ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
lostsquee Summer Luau. Desmond and Sayid find themselves in the same situation as Henry and Clare in the Time Traveller's Wife, and Desmond fears the day when he will be taken away from Sayid.
Sometimes, Desmond wondered which of the two of them had it harder. On the one hand, there was himself, as the one who could be pulled from time to time, place to place, with no control over where or when he’d end up, how long he’d be gone, or even if he’d come back, whether this would be the time where something happened to separate them forever. Most of the time, he told himself that everything would be fine, that he’d always returned before and he would do again, it would only be a matter of time before they were together again. Yet deep down, he always knew that there was always going to be one time when it wouldn’t be fine.
On the other hand, there was Sayid, the one left behind, always waiting for Desmond to return, always asking the same questions himself.
Sayid had confided once that he dreaded a time when Desmond would travel back to the time in his past that he regretted; he did not want Desmond to see him as he had been in the Republican Guard, during the time he had worked as a torturer. So far, that had not happened; to date, Desmond had only once travelled back to a time in Sayid’s past, and that had been a day in his childhood. Sayid had been arguing with his older brother Omer, and as soon as the two of them had seen Desmond watching them, Sayid had said something to Omer in their native language, and forgetting their quarrel, the two of them had run away giggling.
Sayid had laughed when Desmond returned and told him about it; apparently Omer had become angry with Sayid over having killed a chicken for their father in his place, wishing he could have had the chance to prove himself instead instead of just standing back and allowing Sayid to intervene. The sight of a naked man watching them, however, had caused them to forget their argument. Sayid apparently hadn’t thought about that in years until Desmond returned with his tale.
“So, if you don’t remember anything like that happening from your Republican Guard days,” Desmond had replied, “then the chances are it didn’t, brother. And it won’t.”
“I hope you are right,” Sayid had said. “Because I am not the man I used to be back then, and I do not want you to see me as I was.”
“I knew about your past before we ever got together,” Desmond reminded him. “I knew about your time out there, and about your regrets over Essam,” and he’d known about Nadia as well, but was not going to mention that. He hadn’t ever said anything to Sayid, but he had to admit that he was relieved not to have found himself in a time where he would have had to have seen Sayid and Nadia together. He knew this was daft; they’d both had other lovers, and they both knew all about the other’s past, yet Desmond had no wish to be actually confronted with it.
Other times, Desmond had travelled forward into their future together, sometimes in their recent future where he’d stand and watch his future self deep in conversation with Sayid and smile in relief that nothing had happened yet. Sometimes, he would tell Sayid about what he had seen. But there was one time that he had not mentioned, and was not sure that he ever would. It had only lasted a couple of minutes for him, although Sayid had told him later that he’d actually been gone for fifteen hours. He hadn’t been sure exactly what year that was, but he’d known that it was some time many years in the future, and Sayid was older than he’d ever seen him before on any of his trips. As Desmond had watched, Sayid had struggled to his feet, taken tentative steps towards him. Then he’d said it: “Desmond…it has been so many years…”
He’d found himself pulled back to his own time after that, before he had chance to ask Sayid exactly how many years it had been. And in some ways, he was glad of that later, because he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know. It was the first time Sayid had been happy since they’d left the island; did Desmond really want to ruin that by telling him anything about their future, or the fact that their time together may not be as long as they had hoped?
One day, there will come a time when Desmond reaches up to his shelf, pulls out his copy of Our Mutual Friend, and knows it will be the last thing he reads before he dies.
But not yet.
Characters: Desmond, Sayid.
Pairings: Desmond/Sayid
Rating: PG
Warnings: AU. Potentially spoilery if you're not familiar with The Time Traveller's Wife.
Summary: Written for
wandersfound, who requested "books" at lostsquee Summer Luau. Desmond and Sayid find themselves in the same situation as Henry and Clare in the Time Traveller's Wife, and Desmond fears the day when he will be taken away from Sayid.Sometimes, Desmond wondered which of the two of them had it harder. On the one hand, there was himself, as the one who could be pulled from time to time, place to place, with no control over where or when he’d end up, how long he’d be gone, or even if he’d come back, whether this would be the time where something happened to separate them forever. Most of the time, he told himself that everything would be fine, that he’d always returned before and he would do again, it would only be a matter of time before they were together again. Yet deep down, he always knew that there was always going to be one time when it wouldn’t be fine.
On the other hand, there was Sayid, the one left behind, always waiting for Desmond to return, always asking the same questions himself.
Sayid had confided once that he dreaded a time when Desmond would travel back to the time in his past that he regretted; he did not want Desmond to see him as he had been in the Republican Guard, during the time he had worked as a torturer. So far, that had not happened; to date, Desmond had only once travelled back to a time in Sayid’s past, and that had been a day in his childhood. Sayid had been arguing with his older brother Omer, and as soon as the two of them had seen Desmond watching them, Sayid had said something to Omer in their native language, and forgetting their quarrel, the two of them had run away giggling.
Sayid had laughed when Desmond returned and told him about it; apparently Omer had become angry with Sayid over having killed a chicken for their father in his place, wishing he could have had the chance to prove himself instead instead of just standing back and allowing Sayid to intervene. The sight of a naked man watching them, however, had caused them to forget their argument. Sayid apparently hadn’t thought about that in years until Desmond returned with his tale.
“So, if you don’t remember anything like that happening from your Republican Guard days,” Desmond had replied, “then the chances are it didn’t, brother. And it won’t.”
“I hope you are right,” Sayid had said. “Because I am not the man I used to be back then, and I do not want you to see me as I was.”
“I knew about your past before we ever got together,” Desmond reminded him. “I knew about your time out there, and about your regrets over Essam,” and he’d known about Nadia as well, but was not going to mention that. He hadn’t ever said anything to Sayid, but he had to admit that he was relieved not to have found himself in a time where he would have had to have seen Sayid and Nadia together. He knew this was daft; they’d both had other lovers, and they both knew all about the other’s past, yet Desmond had no wish to be actually confronted with it.
Other times, Desmond had travelled forward into their future together, sometimes in their recent future where he’d stand and watch his future self deep in conversation with Sayid and smile in relief that nothing had happened yet. Sometimes, he would tell Sayid about what he had seen. But there was one time that he had not mentioned, and was not sure that he ever would. It had only lasted a couple of minutes for him, although Sayid had told him later that he’d actually been gone for fifteen hours. He hadn’t been sure exactly what year that was, but he’d known that it was some time many years in the future, and Sayid was older than he’d ever seen him before on any of his trips. As Desmond had watched, Sayid had struggled to his feet, taken tentative steps towards him. Then he’d said it: “Desmond…it has been so many years…”
He’d found himself pulled back to his own time after that, before he had chance to ask Sayid exactly how many years it had been. And in some ways, he was glad of that later, because he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know. It was the first time Sayid had been happy since they’d left the island; did Desmond really want to ruin that by telling him anything about their future, or the fact that their time together may not be as long as they had hoped?
One day, there will come a time when Desmond reaches up to his shelf, pulls out his copy of Our Mutual Friend, and knows it will be the last thing he reads before he dies.
But not yet.