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30 January 2009 @ 12:13 pm
fic, Lost: I've Been Everywhere 6/14 (Sawyer, Jack, ensemble), PG13  
Title: I've Been Everywhere 6/14
Rating: PG-13 for this part, will reach NC17 overall
Characters/Pairings for this part: Jack, Sawyer, Charlie; implied Charlie/Claire and there is some bed sharing which isn't exactly slashy but so it goes.
Word counting: 3320 this part, around 50000 overall.
Disclaimer: Lost is not mine and all the folk songs used here are not mine. The places really exist and I've never been there.
Summary: Sawyer is a rambling musician during the Dust Bowl, Jack a former L.A. doctor traveling with him.
Thanks to: elliotsmelliot for the great beta job for which I can't be grateful enough and to fosfomifira for the title. I'd still be searching for one otherwise.
A/N: the song referenced here is Jesus Christ by Woody Guthrie. I know it probably was written in the forties but let's just pretend some version of it was around before. ;)

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Part XIII, Part XIV

5. And They Laid Jesus Christ In His Grave

The point, Sawyer thinks as he and Jack run under the pouring rain hurrying towards the city and hopefully some balcony without too many people already occupying a dry spot, is that Nebraska might be the best way to go west from Iowa, but fuck, isn’t it a godforsaken stinking enormous hole.

Half of the fucking place has to be a damn swamp during winter and it just rains, while the other half is as dry and battered as the places where the dust is, only without the dust. And of course they are in the wrong part and it’s fucking raining and by this point he’s pretty sure that they won’t find a dry place in all the almighty city of Madison. He has actually never been there, but after all everywhere he’s been in Nebraska consists of Omaha and Lincoln, he never bothered with anyplace smaller. Pity that the only ride they got under that rain (which has been lasting for five days) went near here.

As he had previously imagined, every door is shut and the few people out on the street take up all the space under the balconies.

Damn.

“Okay. I’ve got a plan.”

“Which would be?”

“We leave this place as soon as we get a ride, then try to get to Wyoming and then we get to fucking Salt Lake City where there’s a fucking railroad.”

“And where you want to go with the railroad?”

South, fuck it. New Mexico looks like a good option to me now. At least it’ll be warm.”

“You’ve got a point. But we should find some place to get dry first.”

“Yeah, nice idea. Except that I don’t know this hole and I barely see anythin’.”

Because apart from the rain, there’s also some fog, not much but enough to hide the plaques. It looks like Jack is in better shape than he is right now though, since he manages to see an empty space under an awning that Sawyer had completely missed before and drags him there. Except that as soon as the rain isn’t falling over him anymore, he feels it down on his skin, under his clothes, and he suddenly feels cold. They both drop sitting on the ground.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Fuck, New Mexico looks great right now.”

“I bet it does. What the hell, I wish I had passed in this dump once.”

“You can’t go everywhere.”

“Fuck, Jackass, I’ve been everywhere. Don’t underestimate me.”

“Well, Madison, Nebraska, is somewhere.”

“Tsk. Semantics.”

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever. Fuck, I hate rain. Listen, does California look bad after New Mexico?”

“You wanna go home?”

“No, I just want sun.”

“Reasonable. I guess.”

“Oh, I hate rain.”

“Of course you do. Fuck, does it ever rain in California?”

“Once every two centuries I guess.”

“Fuck. Makes me miss fucking Nashville.”

And it takes fucking much to make me miss fucking Nashville, he thinks as he bites his tongue. He already said too much.

“You’re from Tennessee?”

“Born and bred,” he cuts dryly. Well, saying where he was born wasn’t gonna hurt much.

“I went to Memphis once.”

“Me, too. More than once, actually.”

“Well, thanks, you were born there.”

“Point taken. How did you like it?”

“Who remembers? I went on some conference and the rest of the time I was with my wife doing shopping sometime in 1928. I remember only that it was fucking hot.”

“It’s always hot in fucking Memphis. Hey, looks like it stopped rainin’.”

The rain has stopped and the fog has lifted a bit; doesn’t change that the sky is still colored in dark gray and it won’t last much.

“I’d say let’s go,” Jack says standing up and trying to get earth off his coat. Sawyer follows the example and they start walking as fast as possible, looking for some inn, when Sawyer hears some familiar voice in the distance. He stops. Looks at Jack. Raises an eyebrow.

Jack listens and suddenly nods; they walk faster and well, he’ll be damned if in front of him isn’t the blond kid of Juliet’s, playing something very English in the middle of the streets, a sign hung on his neck reading The various musical styles of Charlie Hyeronimus Pace. He comes closer, snorting as he sees that the kid is so busy looking at his hands that he hasn’t even noticed him.

“Look who’s here.”

Charlie’s head snaps up and he abruptly stops playing.

“Bloody hell, you’re here?”

“Looks like we’re both outta luck. Listen, kid, it’ll start rainin’ in a short while and no one’s ever gonna stop to listen to you. Would you mind comin’ over with us? ‘Cause me and the doc there need to find an inn and I’ve got somethin’ to tell you.”

“To tell me?”

“Yeah, you. So, is there some sorry place to sleep the night here?”

“Sure. Sure, there is. Follow me.”

--

Jack gives Sawyer a dollar from the purse, aware that this isn’t the night where they try to get a free room or dinner; it covers dinner for three to begin with and they’re sitting at a table in this inn Charlie knew when Sawyer tells him about Claire as he smokes one of his rare cigarettes. He never smokes really, but sometimes he just needs one, especially when he’s wet as he is now. Charlie blinks at least ten times before Sawyer’s sentence actually kicks in.

“You’re tellin’ me that you met Claire?”

“Well, if your Claire’s got long blond hair, nice blue eyes, comes from Idaho and her boyfriend’s an English musician named Charlie Pace, that’s her.”

“Where did you say she is?”

“A damn sorry place in Iowa. ‘S called Hamburg, it’s near the border line, just over the Kansas one.”

“How... how is she doing?”

“Fine. I mean, looked pretty fine for these times. But she’s got a baby.”

“A baby?”

“Jack, what was the story?”

“She said that after you went her parents died and she met this guy who seemed pretty decent and went to stay with him. Then she fell pregnant and he disappeared from the face of the earth.”

Sawyer can’t help noticing how much Charlie’s hands are shaking.

“So he just... left her?”

“Guess he did?”

“How old’s the tot?”

Sawyer looks at Jack again; the doctor shrugs.

“Two months. Maybe three. Surely no more than that.”

“Did she say anything about me?”

“She said she missed you like crazy but didn’t want us not to tell you that she ain’t alone anymore.”

“Oh, bloody hell, I need to...”

Sawyer is faster than Charlie is and takes hold of his wrist forcing him back on his seat.

“You idiot, where d’you think you’re goin’ with this weather? If you go outside now you’ll end up drowned before you reach Omaha. And she’s got a roof over her head and eats twice each day, not to mention that she hasn’t seen you for years. Get a grip and wait one day.”

Charlie stays silent for a while, but then nods weakly.

“Yeah. Guess you’re right, mate. Wouldn’t really do no good. I’ll go tomorrow, I guess. Are you staying in town for long?”

Sawyer doesn’t know why he laughs after, but then he turns towards Jack and notices that he’s looking at Charlie like he’s completely out of his mind and figures that the expression on his face has to resemble Jack’s entirely.

“Are you mad?”

“Well, I should’ve figured it out already. Can’t blame you really. This is a bloody sorry place to stay a while, indeed. But I’m sure you’re going the other way.”

“Definitely,” Jack hisses as he shivers again, all thanks to a broken window on his right side.

Some unspoken agreement props Sawyer to stand up eying the counter; Jack nods and they reach the owner, since they haven’t asked for a room already. And there comes the problem because Sawyer can’t believe his ears when the man says that there’s only one free room.

“What the hell? What d’you mean?”

“I mean there’s one room with a double bed, pretty big one though, mister, and that’s it.”

“You just can’t have one room only!” Charlie blurts out as Sawyer nods eagerly. The owner just shakes his head.

“You seen how’s today, right? There ain’t another inn in town, evr’ybody passin’ through’s sleeping here. So either you get that one, or I give it to the next person who wants it.”

“We’re taking it,” Jack says then, ignoring Sawyer and Charlie’s horrified expression, “but we’re paying for the room only, not for three.”

“Seems fair to me.”

Jack hands another dollar to the owner and gets the key; Sawyer nods at Charlie and they corner him just as soon as they’re far enough from the counter.

“Doc, what the hell’s got into you?”

“Yeah, mate, he’s right. I’m not...”

“What, sharing a bed? Woah, for being two people who spent half of their lives traveling you sure have stupid quibbles.”

Stupid quibbles? Doc, I ain’t ever shared a bed with a man and while I don’t care if other people do really, not my business and I sincerely don’t give a damn, but...”

“And since you’re freezing cold and out there it rains now you just prefer to sleep on the outside? The both of you? Suit yourself. I’ve paid for a room and I’m sleeping in there.”

“Hey, that ain’t all your money.”

“Sure. So come up and stop being an idiot. And you, too. The guy said the bed is huge, we’d probably all fit in there and we wouldn’t even need to touch each other if that’s the matter. Sure, you can sleep the night off on some chair downstairs but chance is you’ll be sore tomorrow, or you can sleep under a tree and most likely get pneumonia. Well, the room’s number is twelve. Suit yourself, I’ll be waiting there.”

Jack then turns and storms on the stairs; Sawyer holds the guitar close under his arm and Charlie unconsciously mirrors the gesture as they watch Jack disappear on the first floor.

Charlie is the one that speaks first.

“Hey, would we really?”

“Would we really what, midget?”

“I mean, get sore. Or catch pneumonia.”

“He’s the doctor, not me. Though well, guess he’s right.”

There’s some more silence. Then Charlie’s voice tentatively is audible again.

“We have no choice, right?”

“Damn right, we ain’t got no choice.”

Charlie half laughs then and Sawyer can’t help feeling a bit irritated.

“What’s funny now?”

“Well, I’ve always dreamed of sharing a stage with you, but surely not a bloody bed.”

“Oh, just shut that trap and come upstairs.”

--

Coulda been much worse is what Sawyer thinks when they’re finally more or less settled and the only sound he can hear is the rain over the window. It’s so strong he’s seriously worried that the glass might break, but better to deal with one problem at a time.

He tries not to think about Jack’s pretty much I-told-you-so expression as they got into the room.

So, it actually ain’t that bad. The bed is pretty big and thankfully long; Jack managed to get a third pillow from their neighbor next door who had two and was alone in the room. So now it’s him on the left side of the bed, Jack on the right and Charlie is lying horizontally at the foot of the bed, his ankles just a few inches distant from Sawyer’s feet and his face the same distance from Jack’s, whose feet are actually half trapped in Charlie’s pillow, which is placed in the corner of the bed.

Sawyer is also thankful that it looks like the wood is of good quality. If the bed decided that three people were too much and broke down... he shakes his head. He doesn’t even want to consider the chance of it happening.

They managed to find spare blankets so at least they’re warm; Sawyer doesn’t try to think about the fact that they’re only wearing their trousers (Jack’s advice; sleeping with wet clothing on wasn’t that great of an idea and Sawyer figures one should trust him on the subject since it’s the guy’s fucking job after all).

“Fuck,” Sawyer says, to no one in particular.

“Mate, that wouldn’t be just the most appropriate word in these circumstances.”

“Oh, shut the fuck.... hell up, won’t you just?”

“Jesus, is this so a great matter? I mean, it’s a bed, dammit. And we aren’t even touching. Jesus,” Jack mutters more to himself than to any of them.

“Why, doc, you like Jesus that much?”

“The hell? No, I don’t. I mean, I like Jesus just fine, but since I’m not anywhere near sure there’s some God up there and anywhere near sure there isn’t I’d just rather not talk about that. The day I’ve got some reason to decide I’ll decide. And I can’t believe I’m having this conversation now.”

“’S always a good time to talk ‘bout Jesus, ain’t I right?”

“You surely are, mate. Jesus is an excellent conversation subject,” Charlie adds with a tone which had a certain smugness to it. Jack isn’t sure at all that it’s a good thing.

“Aren’t you both being completely blasphemous?”

“You were before, too.”

“I said I don’t know. I haven’t said I believed in Jesus. Or God, or whatever. I probably am more on the no side than the yes side.”

“Well, apart from the fact that I’m pretty much of your same opinion, then what you care about if we’re blasphemous?”

“Oh, shit, who cares. I just want to go to sleep, dammit.”

“Aw, I was startin’ to have fun. Weren’t you, too, midget?”

“Me? Sure. That’s a fantastic topic. Also because you know, Jesus was a man who traveled through the land, a hard working man and brave...”

“Oh, excellent! Indeed! He said to the rich ‘Give your goods to the poor’, but they laid Jesus Christ in his grave.”

Jesus was a man, a carpenter by hand, his followers true and brave... hell, I can’t remember how it goes anymore.”

“What a shitty memory. One dirty little coward named Judas Iscariot, has laid Jesus Christ in his grave.”

“Yeah, right. Good one, mate.”

Sawyer chuckles as he hears Jack hissing under his breath.

“Damn, I’m never ever sharing a room with only two musicians. I swear I’m...”

“Come on, Doc, that’s a great song. You should sing with us.”

Sawyer can feel the tension taking place in Jack’s body as soon as he says sing and fuck, they aren’t even that close.

“I don’t sing. Never. I can’t.”

“Okay, fine. But geez, you got no appreciation for Woody Guthrie.”

“I appreciate Woody Guthrie, I just don’t appreciate you singing while I should sleep.”

“Mate, lighten up. That wasn’t even the best part of the song, right?”

“The midget’s right. You should totally hear the rest.”

“Oh, please, no.”

“Oh, I’d say yes, really. That’s a bloody fine song. Because you know, he went to the preacher, he went to the sheriff, he told them all the same...”

... ‘sell all of your jewerly and give it to the poor”, but they laid Jesus Christ in his grave, the bastards. And then... oh, yeah, when Jesus came to town, all the working folks ‘round, believed what He did say...”

“...the bankers and the preachers, they nailed him on a cross, then they laid Jesus Christ in his grave. God, mate, that’s a bloody fine song but that’s way more sodding depressing than I remembered.”

“Well, it has a point. ‘Cause y’know, that ain’t a bad idea. I mean, that Jesus was around and that they’d kill him now. I mean, that’s what he’d say I guess.”

“Didn’t you just say you were of our mate’s opinion?”

“Yeah, but I read ‘nough to know that some Jesus existed for real,” Sawyer mutters, and Jack is seriously starting to lose any hope of sleeping tonight.

“Well, I believe in God and I think this is one of the most religious songs I ever heard my whole life. Especially that part... oh, yeah, but if Jesus was to preach like He preached in Galilee...”

“... they would lay Jesus Christ in his grave,” Jack finishes as he turns his head into the pillow.

“What? You knew it already?”

Sawyer can’t help feeling a bit surprised.

“Hell, even if I didn’t it wouldn’t have been that hard to guess hearing what you said up to now. Fuck, I really should have let you catch pneumonia.”

Jack’s head creeps under the pillow and Sawyer can’t help laughing as he leans against the headboard, not knowing why; maybe because Charlie started first.

As it dies and he feels his eyelids grow heavier, he just can’t help noticing just how warm the bed is. He thinks he can feel the warmth radiating from Jack’s body, but that’s probably a hallucination.

--

When he wakes, the first thing he sees is fog against the window, so thick that it seems like the whole inn is surrounded by some soft gray pillow; then he feels Charlie’s ankle spread over his own and an arm loosely circling his waist and he tries not to freak out. Sawyer sighs, turning over on his right at the same time, figuring he knows what’s up with the arm as he gently removes it. Not worth freaking out; after all, they were sleeping.

He’s face to face with Jack, who is kind of nearer than he was the night before and of course the owner of the arm; his eyes roam for a couple of seconds over two thin, faintly pink lips and the light stubble over Jack’s cheeks before two warm dark eyes shoot open and Jack’s mouth does too, probably in the same second in which he realizes that Charlie’s pillow is now completely over his feet.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Doc, your breath stinks.”

“Well, yours isn’t that great either.”

“Okay, let’s bury the ax. Are we kickin’ the midget down?”

“You even ask me? On your three.”

“Fine. One, two, three.”

Sawyer kicks Charlie’s ankles away and Jack does the same with the pillow; Sawyer sits up on the bed, sort of delighting himself as Charlie looks at them from the ground as if he wanted to kill the both of them.

“You wankers.”

“You bet,” Sawyer answers with all the calm in the world.

--

The fog is so fucking heavy that they barely can see the house in front of the inn. And it’s also fucking humid and the ground is thick with mud; Sawyer can’t help thinking that eastern Nebraska is really a goddamn swamp. He hates that. He almost misses the dust.

“So, are you guys going the other way?” asks Charlie as he straps his pack over his shoulders, mindful of the sign.

“Yeah. Plan’s going to Wyoming, then we get to Salt Lake City, then we jump a train and then we go south.”

“Ouch, that’s bloody tempting. Though your mate doesn’t look very excited.”

“Oh, he is. He just doesn’t like jumpin’ trains.”

Jack doesn’t even scowl at him by this point; he just wishes Charlie good luck as Sawyer does. A minute later he’s disappeared into the fog.

“Jesus, looks like that fucking fog’s eaten him alive.”

“Yeah, and the cops and the soldiers, they nailed Him in the air and laid Jesus Christ in his grave.”

“Doc, you won’t ever stop surprising me.”

“You really think so?”

Sawyer doesn’t answer and just shrugs.

“I need a cigarette.”

“I think we just need to get the hell out of here.”

“Sure as it’s sure that the poor workin’ people followed Him around. Come on, I’m sick of this dump. Hope that we catch a ride.”

TBC

 
 
feeling: apatheticapathetic
 
 
 
sad side of normal: busy ladiesfosfomifira on January 30th, 2009 10:38 pm (UTC)
Heeee! I'm so glad that they found Charlie right away. I hope that the next time we hear from him it'll be all about his musical success in the company of both Claires and one Aaron.

I loved the little hints at (maybe?) future slash with Jack and Sawyer sharing a bed and being all awkward about it, until they realise it's not that big a deal, and especially that moment before Jack woke up. I also loved the song you used for this section, though I haven't really heard it (*hangs head in shame*).

This is almost as good as a real road trip, and a hell of a lot comfier than Jack and Sawyer's! Love it :)
the female ghost of tom joad: lost sawyer guitarjanie_tangerine on January 30th, 2009 10:54 pm (UTC)
Re the song, shall be fixed now! ;) Actually I wanted to post all the songs I used here after I'm done but meanwhile... Woody Guthrie version and U2 cover. And I'll be sincere, I kinda prefer U2's, which totally works as cover which WORKS. ;)

And ha, the little hints shall lead to NC17 sex. Unfortunately it'll be in the last part but hey, I'm preparing my ground here. *cough* Glad you liked it! I had to work Charlie here also because since they still were near Claire's the guy wouldn't have had to walk across half the country.

Thanks so much, I'm so really glad you're liking it this far! ♥ ♥
halfdutch: JS by graphixedhalfdutch on January 31st, 2009 06:37 pm (UTC)
Ha, I was wondering if there'd be some "huddling together for warmth" at some point! Yay! This was adorable, how Jack was just so matter-of-fact and Sawyer put up such a fuss at first. And then, of course, it was not a big deal. (And, no doubt, paved the way for more!) I'm enjoying how they start out as just friends and am looking forward to seeing how they become closer.

And aww, with the sweet story of Claire & Charlie. I'm also enjoying how you've written Kate here. I always like it when she and Sawyer have a no-strings-attached relationship. And the moment where Jack felt that urge to kiss her, well, that's perfectly understandable as he's been alone for so long.

And now I'm all caught up, alas! I have to wait for more like everyone else! *small pout* I'm very happy to see it's all written, however!


Edited at 2009-01-31 06:38 pm (UTC)
the female ghost of tom joad: lost j/s kate separates themjanie_tangerine on January 31st, 2009 06:56 pm (UTC)
Oh, it is. And I just need the last couple of chapters betaed but I'm pretty much done done with the editing, so you'll see more of this pretty regularly over the next two weeks.

There had to be some huddling together for warmth! ;) I mean, I'm here building my UST, I needed that in at some point. I had a lot of fun writing that part and I'm really glad the way those two's relationship is progressing here works.

I like Charlie and Claire when they're sweet, you know. I'm happy to hear Kate and the sort-of-triangle dynamic worked here, I felt like I owed her some space but I definitely wanted the triangle done with here and I like her and Sawyer when they're no strings attached, too. I figured Jack would want to kiss her but he's got ethics, right? ;) Thanks so much, I'm so glad you're liking it! And there's more coming soon. ;) ♥
Janicejaydblu on February 3rd, 2009 05:03 pm (UTC)
Aw, the three boys huddled in bed together for "warmth", yes! *pumps fist*
I love how this is moving along, and aw, Charlie... *hearts*
the female ghost of tom joad: lost charliejanie_tangerine on February 3rd, 2009 10:59 pm (UTC)
Huddling together for warmth = best metaphor ever. Thanks, Naveen. *sigh*

Definitely glad you're liking it so far! And yeah, one can always use more Charlie, right? Thank you!
etpmvempetpmvemp on February 6th, 2009 06:26 pm (UTC)
As everyone else, I liked very much our three monkeys, jumping on the bed. Very amusing! To tell you the truth, I even expected some hugging in the rain. It was very nice how you relieved the tension in the end by kicking poor Charlie out of the bed.

Is Charlie still a former altar boy in this version?

the female ghost of tom joad: tangerinesjanie_tangerine on February 7th, 2009 10:39 pm (UTC)
Glad the bed huddling worked! I hadn't really planned on it happening but I was kind of going without a plot while writing this and it seemed like a good idea, so I went with it. Poor Charlie got the shortest straw but hey, it was good for relieving tension indeed!

Uhm, I haven't said anything in particular but since he's half-religious or something I guess he could absolutely be.
faran1078: letterstothesouthfaran1078 on March 11th, 2009 03:10 pm (UTC)
The dialogue under the awning reminded me so much of Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid. Well done.
the female ghost of tom joad: ian somerhalder valentinejanie_tangerine on March 11th, 2009 08:31 pm (UTC)
Thanks so much! I so love that movie... and now that I think about it I had seen more or less when I was writing this.
alemyrddin: Jack Sawyer hugalemyrddin on March 18th, 2009 04:31 pm (UTC)
ooooh, yay! *happy dabce*

Thank you for putting them wet in the same bed! ;)

The whole scene in the bed was adorable, and Charlie was even more... I am so happy that he's going to see Claire again. :)
the female ghost of tom joad: lost jack/sawyer just in casejanie_tangerine on March 18th, 2009 08:26 pm (UTC)
Ha, it had to happen! I was resisting the sandwich but there were limits, sadly.

Thanks, glad you liked that scene! I had a blast writing this part, glad it came through. And he's totally going searching for her indeed.