Summary: "I have to go because I'm going to save you." Everything he did was to save her. Jin/Sun.

Yeah, another Jin/Sun story, because they're just so sweet and there STILL aren't enough stories for them. Inspired by a quote in exodus.

It's a pathetic title. I know.

It appears that I may be turning into a shipper for these two, but someone has to show the support.

Short and concise. This one's not a masterpiece. It's not Memorabilia or anything; it's just me having a little fun with the psyche of the characters. It was something to write and I wrote it.


Characters: Jin, Sun.


She remembers best the man who brought her the most beautiful flowers, who would steal kisses when no one was looking and sneak notes to her. He used to run his fingers through her hair for hours and be perfectly content just to stare at her endlessly with a permanent smile on his face. Jin adored her and he had showed her so through every tiny gesture. He flattered her with genuine compliments whenever the chance presented itself. He doted on her, showering her in unnecessary gifts and surprises that were small but infinitely romantic. Just a flower could make her feel warm and safe. He made her happy with simple things, nothing lavish or beyond his moderate means, but she never needed more than that.

A lifetime with Jin. It sounded almost too perfect, too complete. The idea made her giddy, and she was terrified at the prospect that it might not be achievable. She had been so certain that her father would disapprove and tear everything apart, so absolutely convinced that she even suggested eloping. Her delight had been immeasurable when her father accepted Jin, but her elation was wounded by the idea of Jin entering her father's employment.

From the start, she had known it was a bad idea. She was afraid what might happen; she knew her father's business enough to know it couldn't be good. But she had been placated, reassured that it was only a year and nothing could poison someone like Jin.

She had been wrong. There were signs all over, but the day he rushed in covered in someone else's blood she really knew. He was a prisoner to her father because he had married her, and it was destroying them. There were no more flowers to fill the vase she used to keep on the table, no more stolen kisses or quiet conversations. He hardly even looked at her out of the corner of his eye when he could avoid it, and the adoration turned bitter.

So she learned English. It took a long time, her tongue fumbling over the abnormal syllables and her eyes untrained to the strange letters, which spelled things like 'door' or 'watch'. The first thing she learned how to say was "My name is Sun," a phrase which she struggled to perfect without jumbling around the order or mistaking the pronunciation. It had been a frustrating exercise, but she was a patient woman and she gradually caught on until she could speak the language well, if not fluently. She always had to focus on what she said, even on the island, though there she got more adjusted to it surrounded by the other survivors.

She had wondered so often if he would care when she went missing at the airport. Would he panic or just shrug and let her go? She didn't even know if he loved her anymore, loved her the way he had in the beginning. It would hurt her, but she used to wonder if it would have hurt him. She had been prepared to leave, if not for that glimmer of a chance, enough of a chance that it was worth staying. He managed to make her hope at the darkest time possible, when she had been so determined to just walk and never, ever return to him. If it hadn't been for that flower at the airport, she would have gotten into that waiting car and disappeared into America, as much as it grieved her. Jin had changed, and she had to get away. He had started to scare her.

Of course, Jin never told her that he was only doing it all for her. He realized their relationship was souring, but they needed the money. He wanted to provide for her, and he always swore that he would leave her father's business and rekindle their suffering marriage; yet he knew deep down that there was no escape from the kind of business his father-in-law conducted. She knew, deep down, but something had changed and he was trapped in this vocation.

He was always trying to save her. The only things he did were to protect her: first, to secure the kind of life she deserved, then to shelter her from her father's enterprise, then to keep her at his side when they were surrounded by strangers on the island. When she asked him not to leave on the raft, he had assured her he was going to save her.

So that was what he would do. Even after the raft was a failure and he found himself captive to strange people who spoke English and tied him up, he was determined to keep his vow and save her, somehow, if not from the island then from whatever dared to menace her. After all, he had promised, long before he actually said the words. She mattered to him more than anything, and no monster or invisible threat or Frenchwoman carrying a gun across the beach or mysterious Others were going to harm her.

Of course, it had occurred to him once or twice that perhaps she didn't need saving. She had the gentle personality of someone who could truly persevere, that quiet strength that kept her brave and calm no matter what the crisis was. When a problem arose that she needed to solve, she dealt with it gracefully and impeccably. He was a little less controlled and more likely to overreact, distorting a basic problem into something so much worse.

Regardless, he would defend her. He had sworn this much to her in simple words that became a promise before he even realized it. He would always be by her when she needed him. Everything he did was to save her, even when he was the one in need of saving.