and a Gun
Characters: Ana-Lucia and Sayid (gen)
Thanks to: magelette, for a kind beta!
Spoilers: Spoilers through 2x08, "Collision"
Notes: Italic phrases taken from various Catholic prayers and recitations
that I have sinned through my own fault, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done, and in what I have failed to do
He sees it. She knows he does.
He can see the death in her eyes, death she has caused and death awaiting her.
"Why are you asking me if I have children?"
He knows why. She's not going to kill him. She'll fall into this twisted version of the villain's last monologue, the one that always gets him caught in the end. She's already caught, though. She's been caught for months.
It's strange that her last conversation will be with him.
he will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead
The old words keep sifting through her brain. She hasn't been to Mass since …
She wishes they would stop. There's enough damn whispering in this jungle as it is.
"Should you kill me? Maybe you should. Maybe you were meant to."
Maybe he's right. Maybe that is her new role in the world. Executioner.
"I'm a cop."
She reels for a moment, dizzy with hunger, sun, and emotion. It figures that for her, sunlight is the enemy. She's gotta get control again, finish this.
"I was a cop."
Better. She just needs to get through this last part. Someone here should know, at least. Before she's gone.
She crouches. Never was one for kneeling.
his mercy endures forever
Not hers, though. Ana-Lucia offers mercy in the form of a bullet and it ends everything. She hopes he'll grant her the same.
"I believed him. I just -- I let him reach."
I am sorry for these and all the sins of my past life
She didn't used to be this way. She tries to remember the last time she smiled.
Goodwin. She gave her last smile to that bastard. Kind of perfect, really.
She didn't used to be this way.
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus
"What happened to him?"
She shrinks from his gaze. Can't do it. She can't even do this, this one thing. One confession to end them all. She's weak.
Fine, then. It's done.
Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
"I deserve it."
It's the only way she knows to finish the story. She puts what she can into the phrase. He'll understand. He'll see it.
She's not even afraid. Much.
I dread the loss of heaven and the pains of hell
She vaguely wonders if Eko will give her Last Rites. He would know them, she feels it. And he'll be back. He wouldn't leave her here alone forever.
Do murderers get Last Rites? She suddenly can't remember. They have to, don't they? The Church forgives everything.
Not suicide, though. Even suicide by cop. Or grieving lover.
She keeps her head up. She wants to see his eyes when he does it. Her penance.
He doesn't even lift his hand. Her chest is so tight, she thinks she might die anyway. How can he just stand there?
His voice is broken. She broke it.
I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word, and I shall be healed.
"What good would it be to kill you, if we're both already dead?"
She watches him walk away. He walks away from revenge and toward grief, and she can't bear it.
He's leaving her in Hell after all.