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FIC: The World Will Break Your Heart (LOST) (over_look: 5 - Playing dead)
23
fandomfrom3
Title: The World Will Break Your Heart
Author: chicafrom3
Fandom: Lost
Claim: Adam "Sinjin" St. John
Other characters/pairings: Brief appearances from Zap
Table/Theme Name & Number: I, 5 – Playing dead
Rating: PG
Warnings: Some language. Also I think I've gotten a bit addicted to telling stories backwards.
Summary: His fingers slip off the strings and he wonders if this is real; if he's alive.
A/N: Tenth of ten for over_look, for the claim of Sinjin. No spoilers beyond the basic premise of Lost. And for anyone who doesn't know: Sinjin is the lead guitarist for Driveshaft. Claim completed! Yay! *cough* Only took about nine months…



Here's how it ends:

Sinjin is drunk, drunker, drunkest, sprawled on Zap's couch, guitar cradled lovingly in his arms. He plays Dark Streets of London, Another Brick In The Wall, I Wanna Be Sedated.

Sinjin says: Tibet is beautiful.

Zap says nothing. Maybe he's asleep, maybe he's just given up trying to get through to Sinjin in this mood.

Sinjin says: It's harder than you think, a vow of silence.

He thinks about that. Zap is still silent.

Sinjin says: Maybe it's not. Maybe it's talking that's hard. I forget.

His fingers slip off the strings and he wonders if this is real; if he's alive.


Earlier:

Sinjin is stone cold sober. Not that you could tell, from the outside looking in.

Sinjin yells: Zap!

He pounds on the door to Zap's flat.

Sinjin yells: Ju!

He pounds harder.

Sinjin yells: Julian!

He pounds some more and imagines he can hear the wood crack, and Zap's neighbors waking up.

At last the door opens and Julian Quinnel peers out at him. "Sinjin? What the fuck are you doing? You've been gone a year. Pat was taking bets that you were dead. Where the fuck have you been?"

Sinjin ignores that, grins hollowly instead, says: I need to be drunk. Drunk enough to forget that I'm not dead.


Before that:

It takes half an hour for Sinjin to remember that Zap had moved just before he left Britain, and he can't remember the address of the new flat.

He coaxes the girl at the airport information counter into giving him a phone directory. His voice is hoarse and rusty from disuse, but he is still Sinjin and he still charms and she gives him the directory.

He's in luck. There's only one Quinnel, J. listed. Sinjin writes down the address on his hand, gives the directory back, and asks: Where can I get a cab this time of night?


Here's how it begins:

The monastery is big and old and beautiful. Tibet is beautiful, and Sinjin is already in love.

They say he is not ready to take orders and be a monk.

Sinjin says: That's okay, I don't need to be a monk, I just need the rest of the world to not exist for a little while.

He takes a vow of silence, and they give him a cell in the monastery, and he spends a year there, not speaking, not playing music, not drinking, not thinking about the band or guitars or Charlie's plane.

When twelve months are up, he is not prepared to leave, not prepared to live in the real world again, but he takes his plane ticket and goes.

He sits on the plane and blocks out the image of Charlie sitting next to him, closes his eyes and wonders if this is real; if he's alive.

?

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