My Future is the Past

~*~

Part One

“Dad, don’t!” Ben cried as his father grabbed his arm and pulled on it harshly.

In his cell, Sayid stood up at the ready, but his serene poker face faltered as he realized he had no power behind bars. Quickly regaining his composure, he stood still and watched carefully.

Sayid was being held in this cell in 1977, mistaken for one of Dharma's maybe-enemies, an indigenous Island-dweller. This cover had proved hard to break, so Sayid had been forced to play along. Sawyer had offered his help in breaking Sayid out, but Sayid had other plans.
Earlier, Ben had brought Sayid a sandwich and a book. The young Ben's shy, intelligent demeanor echoed that of the older version Sayid had known. But there was something different about this boy, most obviously his openess and innocence, but also something entrancing. Sayid was more than a little curious about Ben's childhood. And since he had nowhere else to go, he had begun to plan. His forced LSD trip from a day before might have garbled his mind slightly, but aside from that, he was still sharp. He already knew the situation, and with a little help, he could change it.

But Ben had made the mistake of coming back again, intent on being kind to Sayid for some reason. Sayid guessed that Ben wanted out of the Dharma Initiative. All past and ongoing evidence pointed to that conclusion. Now, though, things would be more difficult. Roger had caught his son bringing in another sandwich, and Sayid had a feeling that the older man was a lot smarter than he looked. He, too, knew Ben might try to run. But, Sayid thought, Roger definitely had a strange way of showing his concern...


“Don’t you lie to me,” Roger Linus growled at his son, apparently disregarding Sayid's presence.

Ben gasped in fright as Roger grabbed the back of his shirt and pushed him up against the bars of Sayid’s small cell. The boy angled his face away from the cold metal bars, trying to save his glasses from being broken again.
His face reddened with humiliation and anger. He was helpless; he couldn’t fight back against his own father. At least… not when the man was sober.

Thankfully, Roger pulled Ben away from the bars in the next moment. However, the man's painful grip on Ben's arm didn’t loosen. And to Ben's shame and horror, he felt tears burning in his eyes.

“What are you doing?… You made this sandwich for him, didn’t you?” Roger spat.

Ben held back a sob and managed to squeak out, “Y…yes.”

“Who told you to do that?”

“Nobody…” Ben murmured, his voice breaking.

Roger shook Ben slightly, and the boy’s eyes widened in fear. “I just thought that…” Ben breathed, his voice fading. His gaze met Sayid's for a second, pleading and hurt. His heart was laid open in that look, pained, penetrating.

Sayid held in a gasp, and glanced away quickly. He must have looked uncaring and distant to Ben at that moment, but he had to act accordingly, or else he might make everything worse, then he'd never get out of the cell. He had to remain cool as he watched this situation unfold, gathering as much information as he could, logging every detail away. Underneath his logic and calm, though, Sayid's temper was rising fast. But he would never allow Roger to see him upset.
At least, not until Sayid had a loaded gun pointed at the man.


Roger sighed. “Mhmm. Go home,” and stared at his son a moment longer before releasing the boy’s arm. “Go on! I’ll tell you what to think…”

Ben scuttled out of the room quickly, too scared and ashamed to look back at Sayid again.

Roger watched him leave before turning back towards the cell and glaring at Sayid. Then, without another word, he hurled the sandwich tray against the wall and stormed out the door, leaving the mess, and Sayid, to stagnate in silence.


In his thoughts, however, Sayid had been far from inactive. That’s the second time Ben’s been in here, Sayid thought to himself. He’s obviously risking a lot to come and bring me those little sandwiches. His father…

Sayid clenched his teeth angrily, then sat down on his cot with a sigh. Expressing his anger was counter-productive right now. He would save it for later.
Sayid ran a hand through his wild, curly hair. His fingers caught in the looping strands and he winced.

At one time, Sayid had liked his hair better this way. While he was on the island the first time around. The jungle humidity and warm sea breezes here forced his hair into curls; normally, his hair was much more straight. Instead of tying the unruly coiled strands into a short ponytail with a piece of ripped cloth, he would stylize it with gel, smooth it back, dress up, put on some cologne…

But it was for nothing. He was a killer… merely behaving like a gentleman couldn’t save him from that fate.

Sayid laid back on the cell's cot, staring blankly at the ceiling, letting his thoughts wander.


After Ben removed the bullet from Sayid’s left shoulder, he took off his hospital gloves and glasses and leaned closer to the younger man. Ben reached out and ran his fingers through Sayid’s smooth hair, and Sayid closed his eyes, surrendering to the familiar touch. Ben’s other hand ran down Sayid’s tear-streaked face gently, and Sayid felt himself tilting his head to the side, leaning against the warm hand.

“I‘m sorry,” Sayid whispered, his voice weak.

Ben continued to pet his hair softly. “For what?”

Sayid winced in guilt. “…I think I… I nearly fell for her. She was… she was beautiful, Ben, she…”

As Sayid’s sentence faded, Ben chuckled quietly. “I know I‘m not beautiful, Sayid, but you don’t have to rub it in.”

Sayid opened his eyes, giving Ben a pained expression that wasn’t caused by his aching left side. “Ben, I didn’t,” he choked out, “I didn’t mean that. You… you know I think you--”

“Shh, shh. I know. I understand,” Ben cut in quietly, saving a distressed Sayid from speaking again. Ben moved closer then, and Sayid whimpered softly as he was urged to lie back on the cold metal table. His shoulder was numbed enough from the shot Ben had given him, so he merely shivered as Ben pressed a bandage over the wound and taped it on securely. Ben then leaned over Sayid and looked into his deep brown eyes calmly. “You know I don’t hold it against you, Sayid. I just want to know… did you like it?”

Sayid blinked slowly, staring up into Ben’s eyes.

Ben’s face took on a worried expression. “I know you slept with her. What I’m asking is… did you sleep with her and like it?”

“…I… y-yes, I mean… no… I…”

“More than with me?”

Sayid broke eye contact quickly, looking pained. This time, Ben was sure it wasn’t from his wound. Ben started touching Sayid’s hair again, and the younger man’s eyes closed as he took a shaky breath.
“I… I don’t know.”

Ben smiled the tiniest bit. “I know you don’t know,” he whispered, leaning over Sayid and kissing the side of his face tenderly. “You forget… I never ask questions that I don’t know the answers to.”

Sayid gasped quietly as Ben’s surprisingly soft fingers brushed against his neck and over his face. Ben’s touch… who could’ve guessed that it could be so tender? Those hands, those eyes, that mind, the tools that had murdered many. Despite all of Ben's aversive negative traits, he could be so warm and inviting sometimes.

Sayid swallowed as Ben's fingertips caressed his trembling throat. “Then… then what is the answer?” he asked in a thick whisper.

Ben brushed his lips against Sayid’s ear. “Let me show you.”


“Damn…” Sayid whispered, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the cold metal edge of his cot. I still think about him… even now--
Sayid sat up quickly and slammed a fist against his thigh. He couldn’t think about Ben. Not now. It had been only a few months… but it seemed like an eternity…
Since Ben had thrown him away.

Ben had used Sayid to kill those many nameless people who worked for Widmore. At first, it was a simply symbiotic relationship. Ben needed those people dead, and Sayid both hated to and wanted to kill, his best skill, something that might fill the gaping holes in his heart, even for just fleeting moments.
But during the down times… the two of them had found a way to release all the pent-up stress that was weighing on their minds. And they had found a connection. Sayid didn’t even realize that a drastic change in their previously sterile relationship had occurred until he had woken up one morning to the feeling of Ben’s expert hands exploring his body.

Sayid supposed it was all Ben’s idea… them being… together, somehow. But he couldn’t deny his own involvement, nor his own initial inkling that it would happen. Thinking back, it had been inevitable, really. And when they were together… Whether it was in a lavish hotel room in some strange foreign country, or in the back of Ben’s car on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, it was always… just them. Guns put away, targets forgotten for a while. All of Sayid’s memories, his guilt, his self-torture… it was gone when they were together. Without realizing it, he had opened himself up to Ben, given his heart to the man, and shared more than he ever had with anyone else, both mentally and physically.

Whether it was Ben’s manipulative ways that had turned him, or just his own damaged and starving mind that had needed it… Sayid didn’t know. Either way, though, he loved Ben. And even better, Sayid felt like maybe he had gotten through to Ben; that Ben might actually trust him now that he’d opened himself up to the man. Even though it hurt, Sayid had let himself hope that trust might turn to love. Because Ben, on occasion, had shown his inner self to Sayid the slightest bit; a small, warm smile here, an especially soft touch or word there… Enough to entice Sayid. To grow the hope that maybe the two of them could eventually be… peaceful, somehow, together.

But after the Widmore killings were done, Ben cast Sayid adrift without warning or explaination, and Sayid was… devastated. He couldn’t believe that it was just over.

But Ben had walked away. And so, desperately needing Ben to direct him, Sayid tried in vain to crawl back into the older man’s arms. But Ben simply acted like he didn’t care about what they had, what they were, and what they could’ve become.
He shut Sayid out.

Sayid was left alone. His memories of their time together became tainted with nightmares. The pain rushed back, colder and more condemning than ever before. Sayid had nothing left in the world except the lingering bittersweet feelings of his relationship with Ben.

But now… Now that Sayid was back on the island…

Things could change. He could make them change. It could mean losing his mind, his pride… his future...

But Sayid had only one hope left. He would save little Benjamin.

I want him to know me, to remember me, to… appreciate me… Sayid thought, and for once he felt himself becoming nervous; wanting more than anything to just get out of this cell.

Even if it meant drastically changing the future… Sayid would protect Ben.
And the Island could repair what was broken.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~