Disclaimer: Don't own The River.
A/N: Noticed there isn't a Jahel story here and decided to remedy that. Hope you like!
A/N2: Considering I'm having a VERY hard time finishing ANY of my other stories, I got inspired after tonight's season finale and wrote this little oneshot for "The River".
Warning: Post Row, Row, Row Your Boat…so there will definitely be some spoilers…especially for the season finale.
The Boiuna was an unforgiving mistress, and Jahel doubted that it'd ever let them go. It clung to them, possessively, digging nails deep into skin and drawing blood hungrily. It tested them time and time again, and with each trial they'd managed to overcome they'd not only made it farther into the Boiuna's depth, but they'd also made themselves more interesting to it and its inhabitants. None moreso than Dr. Cole himself.
Jahel knew the look in his eyes, knew the gaze of a man who'd seen more than he should, and while he wanted to keep secrets and be vague as to what exactly was the extent of his knowledge-the fact that the Boiuna had changed its pathways to keep them from escaping said a lot.
Also, there was the fact that she'd noticed a concentration of the events…could feel the Boiuna's interest.
She'd unsuccessfully tried closing herself off after what'd happened to Lincoln, had been slapped in the face with just how dangerous things could become…how much of a vessel she could be for the spirits around her. The voices still talked to her, daily, every hour whispering something new in her ears, or appearing before her. Never harmfully, she'd never feared what she saw or what she heard, she hadn't lied when she'd told her father that. But what worried her was the fact that she was never attacked.
It meant she was useful.
Having inherited her mother's gifts she'd refused to continue shunning them because of her father and his own doubts and fears, and while that made her feel more powerful it scared her because she realized that there were things she shouldn't be able to master so easily. She'd brought Lincoln back to life by not only performing a ritual she'd never even heard of until that moment, but also invoking the Boiuna itself, the god of all demons. It, or one of its many spirits, had whispered in her ears, showed her hands how to move, and had channeled through her body. It'd done the impossible, ripped through the veil of life itself, and brought Lincoln back to them.
But by doing so she'd not only left Lincoln possessed, but she'd been imprinted as well. Both of them had been hosts for something greater than either of them, Lincoln so much worse than she because she hadn't been tortured the way he had. No. The Boiuna had filled her, granting her a glimpse of its power, so it could accomplish its own task.
She'd been useful.
It kept an eye on her, there wasn't a time of day or night that she didn't sense it near in some way or the other as they tried desperately to find their way out of the seemingly endless Amazon. She could also feel its interest in a few others on the ship as well, namely Dr. Cole, Lena, Captain Kurt Brynildson, and Lincoln.
It hated Dr. Cole, resented Captain Kurt Brynildson, and desired Lena.
Lincoln, it felt was its own.
He'd not only died within the Boiuna, but had been its host, and what the Boiuna considered its own it never gave up.
Lincoln would never leave here.
Jahel doubted any of them would.
They'd either be doomed to sail the Boiuna's dark waters for the rest of eternity, or they'd be picked off one by one until the Boiuna was content once more.
"You feel it too, don't you?" Lincoln appeared at her side, hands on the railing, peering out into the night as he spoke in his heavily accented spanish. "You feel it out there in every shadow, watching us, following us."
"It doesn't need to follow us." Jahel replied, relieved that she didn't have to try and use her broken English with him, that she could converse in her mother-tongue. "We're deep within its belly. We're where it wants us to be."
He tightened his grip on the railing, his knuckles whitening with the force. "Do you feel it inside you as well or is that just me?" His grip tightened even more. "Is it still inside of me?"
She turned to face him, frowning, examining his every feature in the shadows of the night, the moon hidden behind dark clouds. "You know its not in you anymore Lincoln, and if it tries to return, you know that you can keep it out."
He gulped, taking in a deep breath before turning to face her. "You know, I never thanked you for bringing me back."
She knew her smile was laced with bitterness. "I brought you back with a hitchhiker. It wasn't something I expected thanks for."
"But you brought me back, even if part of the Boiuna decided to come along for the ride." His blonde eyebrows nearly touched in a frown as those blue eyes stared down at her. "Thank you for that."
"Your soul wasn't at peace." She replied, gaze returning to the dark water. "You didn't deserve that."
He was silent, just watching her, before his gaze returned to the water as well. "My father knows more than he's telling us."
Jahel knew the snort she let out at that wasn't the most ladylike or nice answer, but it was instinct and the night was dark enough to hide her blush of embarrassment.
"You've realized it too. I thought you would." Lincoln sighed, staring out at the vast darkness before them, reaching up to clasp the pendant of the necklace he wore, the one she'd used in the ritual. "We went through all this to save him, and he's still not telling us everything. Still keeping things to himself." His eyes narrowed. "But he's not exactly keeping them to himself. Is he?"
Jahel worried her bottom lip, sending the taller man a sideways glance.
"He's told Lena, hasn't he?" That grip tightened. "Mom and I came here to save him, risking our own lives, and he doesn't trust us with whatever he knows. He trusts her. Just like he trusted her before he went missing and not me."
The young mechanic didn't know what to say to that, figuring she really didn't need to, Lincoln just needed her to listen.
"When did I stop being good enough?" Lincoln's voice broke as he turned his head away from her, painfully aware of the cameras that were watching them, capturing this painfully awkward moment.
Sighing, Jahel hesitated before reaching out and placing her hand on his. "They both love you."
And it was true, they loved Lincoln…just like Lincoln loved them.
It was why it hurt him so much, his father and…and the girl he obviously had never really gotten over…keeping things from him…not trusting him…
"I know." He whispered. "But they don't trust me. Either they don't think I'm strong enough, or-."
Jahel grumbled something under her breath.
He turned to look at her, bending slightly, eyes narrowed in confusion. "I didn't get that."
Sighing, remembering that Spanish was not his first language, Jahel turned towards him. "Do you think the Boiuna would choose to come back with you if you weren't important?"
He straightened, eyes widening in surprise. "I was convenient."
Shaking her head, Jahel snorted once more. "Lincoln, people have died around us before, but never has the Boiuna come to me with a way of bringing them back."
"I was the only one whose body was intact and still on the ship." Lincoln continued, surprising her as she realized just how little he valued himself in this venture.
"Lincoln," she reached out and grabbed his sleeve, tightening her hold on it. "You're important."
He stared down into her eyes, silent, intent, yet with a hint of disbelief in those cerulean orbs.
Jahel stepped closer, staring up into his eyes. "If the Boiuna had wanted, it could have brought back any of the others. No matter what. But it didn't act until you died. And the first thing it did once it'd come back was to kill El Colgado, who'd killed you."
"But it wanted Jonas from before, because he escaped it." Lincoln whispered.
"That spirit was freed, and while the Boiuna would still want him, it killed him because he killed you." She saw a spark of something in his eyes, and pressed closer despite how incredibly close they already were, needing him to see her eyes clearly in the darkness, to see the truth and sincerity in her brown orbs. "There is something about Lena, something with power, that attracts the Boiuna, and your father knows this." She hesitated before reaching up with her free hand to clasp his pendant. "But you are important as well. And it's Dr. Cole's fault for not noticing. I think he's just happy thinking that with Lena being 'important' you and your mother will be safer."
"But we aren't." Lincoln whispered.
"No, your mother is useless to it except to control you, and for that purpose the Boiuna will probably keep her alive." Jahel warned, feeling urgency prickle under her skin. "But it wants you, Lincoln Cole. It doesn't want you dead." She tightened her hold on his pendant. "You're useful to it."
"As are you."
She pulled back as if struck, shocked, letting the pendant slip from her fingers.
"It speaks to you, Jahel, you've channeled it." Lincoln continued on, intent. "It's never really attacked you."
"I've been on the boat a lot." Jahel replied coolly, gaze going towards the darkness.
"When the Morcegos attacked the ship you were warned." Lincoln's hand rested on her shoulder, warm and comforting. "You're it voice, its messenger. You tell us when we're angering the Boiuna, and how to appease the spirits."
She closed her eyes.
"Jahel, if it wasn't for you we wouldn't have made it as far as we have. You channelled my father, you told us about the Morcegos-you could feel my restless soul and you channelled the Boiuna itself to bring me back." He tightened his grip on her. "I'm not the only one it wants alive."
Pulling a strand of dark hair behind her ear, Jahel opened her eyes and turned to look at him silently before finally nodding her agreement.
Lincoln took in a deep breath and sighed, turning to face the water, his hand still on her shoulder.
Hugging herself, Jahel joined his gaze, staring at the darkness, knowing that it stared right back at them.