His Purgatory (Boone, Shannon; Rated-R)

Hi all. Over the past few days I've been working on my first Lost story. It probably isn't very good, but it is the first story, which took longer than an hour to write, that I've stuck with and finished without taking long breaks. So I'm rather proud of it. :) Anyway, enjoy it if you want to.


Title: His Purgatory
Author: Tif (callistolexx)
Characters: Shannon, Boone
Rating: R
Warnings: Incest, Adult Language
Disclaimer: I would be very happy if I did own Lost and everything connected with it, but c'mon…do I look that happy? No, I didn't think so. I'm just playing around with the characters. I will return them, unharmed, when finished.
Spoilers: 1x13 Hearts and Minds
Summary: It was his Purgatory. The plane crash, the island, the secrets, the lies, his feelings of guilt, all of it was his Purgatory. There was no getting away from it now. And he wasn't sure he wanted to.
Note: Contains a little vocabulary fun (with help from my 1996 Christmas present from my great-uncle, Merriam-Webster OnLine, and Dictionary.com. This is also cross-posted on dimestorewhores, lost_fanfic, shannon_boone, and the Lost Fanfiction Yahoo! Group.

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re·lief \ri-'lEf\ noun [ME, fr. MF, fr. OF, fr. relever to relieve] (14c) : removal or lightening of something oppressive, painful, or distressing

When Boone was a little boy, he would spend hours studying the dictionary and any other book he could lay his little hands on. It was an escape from the pain of his parents' divorce, a feeling he had that the knowledge would set him free. If he were smart, he'd be successful. And if he was successful, there was no reason for whoever he married to want a divorce.

Whenever he had needed comfort, he'd head straight to one of his books and find it in the worded pages. To this date he could still come up with definitions for words and multiple facts at a moment's notice with the same calming effect it had had then. He found that it had come in handy during his time on the island. He'd take any word that came to mind and recite the definition or origins, sometimes aloud when he was alone, more often just in his mind.

The flickering flames of the crackling fire held his gaze as he sat within its circle of warmth. To say that he saw the flames, that he was paying attention to them would be a lie. While his eyes were fixed on the beauty of the destructive force, his mind was back on the events of the day. Back on the delusion that had him convinced his sister had died. Not died, had been killed by the monster that was always there but never seen.

She was his sister, his best friend, the only family he had here on the island and what had he felt as he held her dying body in his arms? Not grief, not fear, not even rage at the thing that had done it to her. He had felt relief. He had felt relieved, for so many reasons. Relieved that she was finally safe, somewhere; relieved that her complaining and unhappiness was finally over; relieved that she was gone; relieved that his deepest, darkest secret had gone with her and he now didn't need to fear that it would be brought to light.

He was just relieved.

*****

¹lust \'l&st\ noun [ME, fr. OE; akin to OHG lust pleasure and perh. to L lascivus wanton] (bef. 12c) : usually intense or unbridled sexual desire
²lust \'l&st\ intransitive verb [ME, fr. OE; akin to OHG lust pleasure and perh. to L lascivus wanton] (12c) : to have an intense desire or need : CRAVE; specif : to have a sexual urge

Locke brought Boone out of his thoughts when he sat down on the opposite side of the fire, his steely gaze locked on the nearby mound of dirt. He believed the older man was responsible for his tumultuous emotions. Despite that, after seeing that Shannon's death had been a sick delusion, he had obeyed the survivalist and followed him out of the caves. He had asked no questions about their destination, hadn't wanted to know. At that moment he hadn't wanted to be at the caves nor at the beach. Above all, he didn't want to be anywhere near Shannon.

His wish had been granted. Their destination had been the hatch. Locke believed that the knowledge of how to open it would soon come to them, alluding to his earlier story about the creation of Michelangelo's David and how solutions came to those who took the time to question and work for the answers. While the hatch monopolized the older man's thoughts, it was the furthest thing from the morose boy's mind.

By the time his mom had started dating Mr. Rutherford, Boone's insecurities stemming from his parent's divorce had abated and he no longer spent all his time with his books. In fact, he spent less and less time with them. He was over his parents' split and his father's complete disappearance from his life. He was the considered the poster child for the All American preteen: happy, confident, popular, responsible, intelligent, and good looking. It was said he had it all. He had all but a father.

He had been happy to learn of his mother's plans to marry Mr. Rutherford, and the two got along well. He'd finally have a father again. As a bonus, he'd also get a sister out of the deal. One of the things he'd always wanted was a little sister to love and protect. Shannon had been away at a boarding school so Boone hadn't gotten to meet her until the day his mother and her father married.

He had loved her the first moment he saw her. Love at first sight, though not the type of love one sibling should have for another. It didn't matter to him that she was only his stepsister and not related to him by blood; in his mind she was his sister and there were no loopholes to their relationship. They were brother and sister and to care for her the way he did was wrong.

He had been able to trivialize it, able to convince himself that it was just hormones. He was going through puberty, a confusing time in and of itself, and Shannon was a gorgeous girl who he spent a lot of time with. It was only his indiscriminate hormones wreaking havoc with his emotions and beliefs. They just reached out for the nearest attractive female for the object of their dreams and fantasies.

His body was just confusing lust and love. He didn't really feel anything for her other than brotherly love.

*****

fear \'fir\ noun [ME fer, fr. OE f[AE]r sudden danger; akin to L periculum attempt, peril, Gk peiran to attempt] (12c) : a feeling of agitation and anxiety caused by the presence or imminence of danger

Boone shut his eyes against the harsh glare of the fire. It was keeping him from being able to sleep. Or was it his mind that wouldn't let him sleep? He no longer knew, could no longer tell the difference. If he could only numb himself to everything, just for a little while, just long enough to rest and recover from his drug-induced haze. Idly, he wondered whether or not Sawyer had any alcohol left over. Probably not, and even if he did there was no way the criminal would ever give it to him.

He looked to the other side of the fire and saw the prostrate lump that was Locke. The survivalist was obviously still awake, just staring at the hatch. If they were face-to-face Boone was sure he'd be able to see the wheels turning in the other man's head. How could he concentrate on one thing for so long? How was it not frustrating him and driving him mad? The younger man knew he couldn't do that. His own thoughts were driving him up the wall and it was frustrating to him that he couldn't seem to stop his thoughts from coming. Even his longtime habit of reciting definitions wasn't calming him.

Boone had never been lacking in the relationship arena. He had his fair share of girlfriends in his life, all of them beautiful, talented, and, most important to his family, in their social circle. The fact that they all seemed to bear a resemblance to his sister in one way or another was just a coincidence. He was happy with each of them, for a time, until he could no longer convince himself that nothing was missing in the relationship. Occasionally he would stop and wonder what it was that was missing, but quickly pushed the question aside when an image of the ever-present Shannon was near.

It was his high school graduation when he was, once again, the man of the house. A sudden fatal heart attack claimed the life of Mr. Rutherford. The family was left well cared for; everything the old man had went to them. On the day of his stepfather's funeral, Boone renewed promise to always protect Shannon. He would do anything he could to ensure her safety. He and his mother were the only family she had left; it was up to them to make sure she was happy and healthy.

It turned out that promise was harder to keep than he had ever anticipated.

Shannon had the habit of picking losers for boyfriends. It seemed like three in five were entirely unworthy of her. As much as he tried to sway her opinions on who was right for her and who wasn't, she did what she wanted. Her boyfriends were a constant source of friction between the siblings. Boone tolerated the endless stream of men as well as he could, was always there to help his sister out when her rose-colored glasses were finally removed.

Every time she told him about a new boyfriend, he would wait on pins and needs for the call. Each time she pleaded for help, he would immediately drop everything and go straight to wherever she happened to be living at the time. She no longer lived at home; she hadn't since her high school graduation. He rarely knew where she was at any given moment. One day she could be in New York City and the next in Amsterdam. She went wherever her whims took her. No matter where she was, he would always bail her out of any jam.

He was at the country club playing tennis with his latest potential girlfriend when he received a phone call from Shannon. The last communication he'd gotten from her had been a few weeks before when she told him of her latest relationship choice, he believed this one's name was Brian. She had refused to pay attention to his warnings and had neglected to say where she was.

The moment he heard her voice, he knew that something was wrong. The two still knew each other better than anyone else did, despite the fact they no longer saw or talked to each other every day. He could always tell when she was upset, even if others couldn't. Just the sound of her voice saying his name had his heart in his throat as a familiar, overpowering fear took hold of him.

He was on the plane headed for Australia just a few short hours later.

*****

hurt \'h&rt\ transitive verb [ME, prob. fr. OF hurter to collide with, prob. of Gmc origin; akin to ON hrutr male sheep] (13c) 2 a : to cause emotional pain or anguish to : OFFEND b : to be detrimental to : HAMPER

Boone rolled over for what felt like the hundredth time. Try as he might to keep his eyes closed so he could at least pretend to be resting, he found himself looking up at the night sky. He could see the twinkling stars through the gaps in the trees. If he thought it would help him any, he'd attempt to search out and identify the constellations. He knew it wouldn't.

He had, immediately upon arriving in Sydney, rented a car and driven to Shannon's rented house. Her phone call kept replaying in his mind; the panic in her voice, the shouting in the background. He could be too late. What if he were too late? The thought sent a shot of complete dread through his entire body. He couldn't be too late. He just couldn't.

Shannon's house was silent when he arrived. Whether or not that was a good thing, Boone didn't know. He remained for too few minutes. His sister had acted as if she had no idea what he was doing there. He would have argued the point further but the sight of the dark, bluish-purple bruise stopped him cold as he felt an almost overwhelming sense of fear and anger flood through him. To stop himself from doing something he might regret, he had left without further comment.

He had decided to go see the police. Maybe they could do something. Shannon had to be saved, that was his lone thought. He had to save his sister. He couldn't allow her to continue getting hurt. It turned out that the police were of no help whatsoever. He couldn't say he was surprised. Cops would always go after criminals like Sawyer, ones that only needed to be mentioned in relation to a crime instead of helping an abused woman get a better life. It was up to him to save his sister by himself.

It was the same situation they'd been in before. How Shannon could always pick the bad ones, he never knew. He supposed it was just the way her luck went. It was his good luck that he had the means to solve the problem.

He located Brian at the docs the next morning and did what he usually did. He bribed the abusive man to leave his sister alone. It was an expensive solution, but it worked and that was well worth it. Now his sister would be safe. At least until the next time she rolled the dice and lost. He hoped it wouldn't happen again. She deserved better than what she ended up with.

Boone went to get Shannon a few hours later. He had decided to pack her up and take her back to the States with him. He wanted her to be closer to him so he could stop this entire scenario from happening again. He couldn't keep letting her, or her father, down.

Immediately he knew something was off. Shannon wouldn't look him in the eye, she looked guilty like the time when she was little and had broken a priceless vase of his mother's. She wouldn't tell him what had happened, but he still got his answer. Brian came in, looking extremely cocky, and was only too happy to reveal what was wrong.

When he was told that Shannon had been faking the abusive relationships, Boone was in shock. He couldn't believe that his sister would do that to him. One glance at her made him a believer. She had done it and her boyfriend-or was he just a business partner?-was bragging about it.

He felt worse than he ever had before. It was almost as if his heart had just gotten broke. Shannon, his sister, the one person in the world who was most important to him had betrayed him. She had taken advantage of their relationship, of his feelings for her.

Close on the heels of his hurt feelings came the anger and the urge to hit something, much like it had the previous day. Normally, he would restrain himself, but in this situation he didn't want to hold back. He wanted to hurt something, no, he wanted to hurt someone and make him or her feel as bad as he did.

He was on Brian in a flash, punching out his hurt and anger. The brawl didn't last long, Shannon made sure of that. It had lasted long enough for Boone to get in a few good punches and for Brian to get in a few better ones, however.

Boone left then, returned to his hotel. The physical pain was insignificant in comparison to his emotional pain. He couldn't understand it. How could his sister do this to him; hurt him so deeply?

*****

rage \'rAj\ noun [ME, fr. OF, fr. LL rabia, fr. L rabies rage, madness, fr. rabere to be mad; akin to Skt rabhas violence] (14c) 1 a : violent and uncontrolled anger b : a fit of violent wrath

Boone found himself grinding his teeth against the incredible pain he still felt from Shannon's betrayal. Remembering it only made it worse; and he couldn't seem to stop thinking about it. Seeing Shannon's lifeless body seemed to make it impossible for him to lock up the horrible memories any longer.

The earliest available flight out to America was the next day. He would have preferred if it were sooner. He wanted to leave Australia and his sister behind; he didn't want to think about either ever again. While he packed, his hurt turned to an almost uncontrollable rage. For the first time he really understood how people could be driven to hurt and kill others.

Boone pictured every imaginable fate besetting his sister. Some of them, such as any involving her death, left him feeling guilty, even through his rage. Others left him feeling satisfied. The ones that made him happiest were the ones in which the player got played; someone conning her out of the money, maybe even Brian.

He just couldn't understand how she could do that to him. Logically, he knew that his mother really could have left Shannon out in the cold as his sister was proclaiming had happened. His mom had never accepted Shannon as well as Mr. Rutherford had accepted him. It was possible that his mom kept Shannon's inheritance from her.

But his sister could've come to him! She didn't have to turn to conning him out of the money. Didn't she know that he would gladly give her everything he had if it would make her happy? That was what family did! At least, that's what Boone believed they were supposed to do. If she had only asked and not played games he would have gotten her anything and everything she was entitled to and needed. She knew that! Didn't she?

The knocking on the door had alerted him that Room Service had finally arrived with the ice and scotch he had ordered, the ice for his eye and the scotch for everything else. If anyone had ever deserved a drink to drown his or her sorrows, it was he.

Perhaps if he were drunk he could get past the hurt and rage. Perhaps he could learn to live with having everything he believed turned upside-down.

*****

love \'l&v\ noun [ME, fr. OE lufu; akin to OHG luba love, OE lEof dear, L lubEre, libEre to please] (bef. 12c) 1 a (1) : strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties (2) : attraction based on sexual desire : affection and tenderness felt by lovers (3) : affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests

Boone noticed a very faint lightening of the sky, indicating that dawn was approaching. It was nearly official; he had spent the whole night thinking, remembering. It was the most time he'd spent thinking about all that had happened since it had occurred. Maybe whatever it was that Locke had put on his head that made him hallucinate wasn't out of his system yet. Maybe one of its side effects was removing whatever it was in the brain that controlled one's memories.

He had ordered another bottle of scotch from room service an hour or so after the last bottle had been delivered and another one an hour or so after that. The alcohol was doing nothing to get him drunk or get rid of his tempest of emotions. He kept thinking that maybe one more drink would do it, but it didn't. When the latest knock at the door sounded he figured it had to be the third bottle. The room service staff was going faster, or was it time that seemed to be speeding up?

It wasn't a hotel employee at the door; it was Shannon. She was, perhaps, the person Boone wanted least to see. However he couldn't bring himself to stop her from coming into his room, from looking all remorseful and repentant. That was when he knew that no matter what she did, he was still under her thumb and probably always would be. She was still his sister and he still loved her.

She was obviously drunk, that was the only way she would actually show that she was sorry. If there was one thing she was it was a master at concealing her emotions and not showing to them to anyone without good reason. She told him that Brian had run off with the money and he had felt as if justice had been done, as if she had been punished. It didn't take his hurt feelings away entirely, but it seemed to help just a little. She now knew what it was like to be betrayed by someone she had trusted.

Boone rolled his eyes as Shannon launched into her explanations. What she revealed, he hadn't wanted to face: The fact that he was in love with her. He had no reason to believe her; she had lied to him on multiple occasions. But she still knew him better than anyone else ever had. If she said he was in love with her, it had to be true, even if it was extremely wrong for him to be so. He would never admit it to her, he couldn't, and so he didn't. Not in words, anyway. The profession had been made in actions.

When she began coming on to him, he knew he couldn't give in. She was drunk, she didn't know what she was doing but he did, he was in his right mind despite a bottle and a half of scotch. Or maybe he wasn't as in control as he thought he was, for when she had started to kiss him he gave in. It was something he had dreamed of for years and it had come true.

He loved her and he could no longer deny it to himself.

*****

guilt \'gilt\ noun [ME, delinquency, guilt, fr. OE gylt delinquency] (bef. 12c) 1 a : remorseful awareness of having done something wrong b : self-reproach for supposed inadequacy or wrongdoing 2 : guilty conduct; sin

Boone closed his eyes against the brightening of the sky, the full weight of his emotions coming in at him from all sides. Perhaps he had to face it all, maybe that would help it go away. Or maybe he was just befriending a sadist who delighted in making him remember and think about things he didn't want to think about.

The morning after he and Shannon had made love, he was wracked with guilt. He felt he had taken advantage of her. She had been drunk, he wasn't. He was the more responsible of the two and he should have stopped it from happening.

What made it worse was Shannon's attitude about it, the cold calm demeanor. She had said that things should go back to how they'd always been. She didn't know that was impossible now. He was in love with her and they both knew it. How could they go back to a time before it was spoken of? How could they go back to a time when they were only brother and sister? Was that even possible? And could that happen just because she said so? He didn't think it would.

All those concerns were soon shifted to the back burner. They boarded Oceanic Flight 815 later that morning and in the fight for survival after the crash, their problems just didn't seem as important as they had before.

*****

pur·ga·to·ry \'p&r-g&-"tOr-E\ noun [ME, fr. AF or ML; AF purgatorie, fr. ML purgatorium, fr. LL, neut. of purgatorius purging, fr. L purgare] (13c) 1 : an intermediate state after death for expiatory purification; specif : a place or state of punishment wherein according to Roman Catholic doctrine the souls of those who die in God's grace may make satisfaction for past sins and so become fit for heaven 2 : a place or state of temporary suffering or misery

Boone groaned quietly as he sat up. Now that the sun was up he had no hope of getting any sleep. Locke was already up, staring once again at that damn hatch. How important could it really be? He doubted that anything behind that door would get them rescued.

"How did you feel?"

He looked at Locke, his confusion written on his face. He caught himself before speaking, though, realizing the question had been asked in his own mind. He paused and looked into the dying fire. How did he feel?

Boone supposed he felt better, reliving everything in his mind, though that was only a fraction of how he felt. He felt so many other things.

He felt relieved. He was relieved that he no longer had to watch Shannon twenty-four hours a day; relieved that she wouldn't get herself into any trouble on the island. He knew that she wouldn't go off into the jungle by herself so the monster-or polar bears or Ethan or any other as yet unknown threats on the island-wouldn't get her. He was relieved that they were both alive and well. He was relieved that she was still alive.

He felt fear for their safety. Not just his and Shannon's, but fear for all the survivors' safety. They were on an unknown island with unknown dangers and no one knew where they were. It had been two weeks. Perhaps it was the pessimist in him, but he didn't think the search parties would continue for more than a few more weeks. What would they do once that happened? What would become of them?

He felt hurt and rage because of Shannon's betrayal. Somehow he knew that he'd get over it in time. It was just too soon for it all to have faded yet. He was certain it would. It was always said that pain faded. He had to believe that would hold true.

He felt love and lust, all for his stepsister. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to stop. Convincing himself he wasn't in love with her hadn't helped. Sleeping with her hadn't gotten her out of his system. He loved her. He wanted to be with her, he wanted to share her life and share his with her more than as a brother and a sister.

And he felt guilty. He felt guilty for everything; for his first emotion upon seeing Shannon dead was relief, for fearing that they'd never be found, for feeling rage at his sister and imagining multiple, horrible fates for her, for loving her the way a man loves a woman, for lusting after her. He felt an overwhelming guilt for everything.

Perhaps that was the key. Maybe this guilt was a test or a punishment. Boone couldn't remember his natural father all that well, but he could remember that he was a religious man and believed strongly in being a good, upstanding citizen. He believed in a person's fate after death. Maybe his father had been onto something. That had to be it; that had to be what was going on.

He had to suffer the bad feelings to fully appreciate the good ones. If he could deal with the guilt and accept that he loved his sister and they might never be together, he'd be just fine. It would only take time. And if there was an abundance of one thing on the island, it was time.

It was his Purgatory. The plane crash, the island, the secrets, the lies, his feelings of guilt, all of it was his Purgatory. There was no getting away from it now. And he wasn't sure he wanted to.

The End