Chapter Text
The island seemed to grow in to a state of grief as the sun began to lower. In a way the body knows what will happen before the mind witnesses it itself, the grief of not being able to return not being able to relish in your mother's arms. It felt as if something had changed throughout not just the area they were standing but the island itself.
The litteluns were more quieter than usual, clinging on to one another as if it would be the only way they could imitate home. Refusing to sleep once more needing ralph to mother them until they snore.
Lips quivering, furrowed eyebrows. No, this was a different emotion not one driven by Rogers violent actions but another driven by something that could destroy them eventually. How much can they endure before they break? And if they do, they'll get built back together eventually.
Ralph is stressed, not exhausted nor moody, he's a brink away from lashing out, unreserved and at what a serpant would call a fabrication of peace . He moved his body during slumber tonight, not like the times he had before. Often feeling a pair of eyes on him, as if they were studying his every move. A cold boys hands touching his hair as he sleeps, flicking it away but Ralph pretends to not notice the hands carresing his cheek as he feels hot breath on his face. He had begun dreading sunrise, wanting to stay forever in the serenity of his dreams.
The burden of responsibility takes a toll on him, the frustration of the routines failing, failure building shelters, failure keeping the fire relit, failure for the hunters to do a thing right and the failure of help coming to arrive. He felt burnt, as if a fire was swept down a forest screeching for his head. All he could do is hope. Hope for a better future and hope they all don't turn in to ash.
Simon notices the things most boys ignored until they became to impossible to avoid. He doesn't speak out. Not out of turn, but in obediance just as choirmaster had taught him.
"A SHIP, A SHIP!" screams roared awaking everyone immediatly. The sparks of a fire wasn't lit like last time a ship had occurred with not an ounce of fire in view. How could this happen again? How could this happen.
Running boys, 'men' frantically waving arms, jumping up and down till their eyes goggled in their own skull and sweat dripped down their forehead. It was no use. Not a sound could be heard.
An escape so far yet so close sailed away, a ship which could've saved them and brought them to civilisation. Was gone in a blink of an eye.
Nothing could be said. The one of many days the hunters had insisted a fire was not needed was another day a ship had arrived. How long had it been since Ralph cried in fury when those animals hadn't paid attention to the former ship in the horizon? His hope, his need, his want all discarded at the hands of madmen.
Jack tried to wobble out of the grip the fair head boy had him in, looking up he saw that the boy had tears stinging his eyes. His rosy lips were bleeding from the bite he had it held in concentrating on only one thing.
Beating the fucking shit out of Jack Merridew.
"R--ralph-" the ginger boy choked out trying to loosen the pain excerlating grip. The blonde boy had sunked into his eyes with two fingers launched into the orbs of sight. Both were bruised and battered with blood dripping down Ralph's nose and Jack with bruises all over his paint ridden face.
Hands grabbed at Ralph's shoulders, shouts from Piggy whether it was out of disappointment or fear, Ralph couldn't care less.
Eventually both the hunters and Ralph's crew had ripped the two away from eachother.
"There was a ship Jack. An actual ship." Ralph exhaled "A ship we could've boarded if you and your hunters hadn't been doing God knows what instead of relighting a fire! How many time has this happen Jack?! Two already. TWO times we could've returned." All the boys could hear know were choked sobs of a boy who had been through far enough.
"I know, I know Ralph I know there was a ship."
"Do you, did you really? If only, if only you'd listened to me, helped me?" Laughter was heard from the boy as if it were a joke as if tears weren't streaming down his face.
"I always tell you this, we need food we need to eat. Whats the point of returning home a dead man? Why hadnt you done the fire youself?! Instead of playing mommy for the littleuns or building a pathetic excuse of a home?? Instead of being a fucking woman? What have you done to keep the fire afloat. They wouldn't have noticed anyways those men on the ships would they? A small excuse of a fire. Accept it Ralph, were stuck here forever it's time to accept that this is our new home."
Ralph couldn't respond, deep down he knew, he knew the men on the boat wouldn't notice the fire from a desolate island surrounded by many. But he could hope. A strange feeling more than grief, more than bargaining clouded his stomach. All he could do was look in those bruised up eyes and a silent refusal not needed by words was exchanged.
The beach felt more divided without anyone meaning to. A day ruined before it started with the usual routine going around of the slaughter of a pig and the mothering of the littleuns.
"You can't just hit people Ralph, you can't..: cut off from words
"What was I meant to do Piggy, what was I meant to do?! An escape was in reach all ruined all destroyed what am I supposed to do. Keep playing mommy to kids who see me as their own?? Jack sees it as batty, a boy nevermind me shouldn't be seen as a mother." Tears flowed down fair cheeks plumped up from the ongoing effect of grief of something that isn't dead. Ironic isn't it.
"We saw it too Ralph. Not just you"
"We all saw it go."
"You can't act like your the only one whose lost something. You may think nobody understand how you feel, but I do Ralph. And I'm sorry I couldn't help." Glasses to small for the chubbiness of the pigs face, he wiped the wetness of them and put it back on. The urgency of equality and authority was no longer lingering in the words Piggy had spoken. It seemed that he himself had lost hope long before the ship had been spotted. Glasses broken, from shoves of hands or a pointless fire needing light. He gazed in to the sea, no longer looking for a ship to sail but instead the thoughts of how life for his aunt must be the day he had been declared as missing.
"Did you see it, he's gone mad that's what it is! He's actually done it this time!" Maurice had said under the murmur of voices flailing behind the battered up ginger who was attentive but not talkative.
"He's gone mad, for sure! He isn't just a pretty pansy! He's a feral pretty pansy!" Robert breathed out still in shock from earlier events.
"He didn't look like a chief then."one said
"He looked more like a littleun"
Simon watched when that happened, eyes not wondering off from the fallen angel although he flinched at the violence painted upon the ground. It didn't feel like violence for as long as it had went on, it had felt like emotions similar to the fallen casted from heaven. He had noticed how Ralph and Jack had stared in to eachother after the fight had happened. Not taking their eyes off of eachother.
Except the emotion wasn't just anger, it was something else. He sees it as something he couldn't describe even if the world had dictionaries of words spoken in the past, future and present.
He had been watching the encounter between Piggy and Ralph. His mouth had widened as if to say something but words didnt come out. Instead he sat down next to the angel and observed the bruising, the heartbreak, the grief. A spark of hope still imminent but flickering. Fighting to stay afloat, fighting for meaning.
It hadn't made Simon feel torn with the fact Ralph had hurt someone but with the fact that he looked like he might have hurt himself with the ocean swelling from his turbulent eyes.
"Wowie did u see what happened Sam?"
"Of course I did ya muppet!"
"Ralph doesn't usually"
"No"
"He looked like he was about to burst"
"Jack hadn't even defended himself until he looked like he had putten mom's lipstick all over his face!"
Piggy had went off to do his business. For a long time the fallen angel hadn't said anything at all between the two of them. A batty boy and a pretty one. The words flowed out easier once Ralph had stopped trying to act as chief.