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The azure sea lapped at the white sand, and the sun shone, glittering on the tips of the waves breaking on the shore and sparkling across the lagoon. A sight, Ralph thought, far too pretty for a place like this. He sighed, idly tracing patterns in the sand with his finger underneath the shade of a tree. Dull pain throbbed around the scars on his back, his legs, his shoulders, his head, God, his head hurt. Throbbed dull around his temples and sharp behind his eyes. Watching the sea eased his mind, kept him from thinking too much - about Simon, about Piggy, about Roger, about Jack - at least, for the most part.
Of course, he was apparently officially part of Jack's tribe now. Jack had gotten what he wanted, to nobody's great surprise, and the paint smeared under his eyes and about his cheekbones made it "official", somehow, but he paid that no mind. He stalked off on his own whenever possible, and Jack, however beastly he'd become, made it clear to his tribe that nobody was to bother him. Ralph didn't concern himself with the reason why. It'd just make his head hurt more.
Bringing his knees to his chest, he continued to stare out at the sea. Nothing for miles. It seemed to just stretch out and out, as did the days, recently. Rescue had become nothing but a hazy dream, and even if he did get rescued, he didn't think he'd ever be the same.
"Hey." came a voice - Jack's, all too familiar - from behind him. Ralph didn't meet his eyes, instead staring down at the sand in front of him, but he could feel Jack staring at him. "We've got fresh kill. S'on the fire now. Do you want any?"
Ralph would've protested, said he didn't want anything Jack and his mob of savages had touched, but instead said nothing. He didn't need to, really.
He heard Jack sigh, kick up some sand in his vague direction. Then, a shuffle, and Jack spoke again, close enough for Ralph to feel his breath just brushing the skin of his back.
"You've really got to stop sulking like this," Jack said, kneeling behind Ralph, "otherwise you'll waste away." Jack's fingers brushed the back of Ralph's shaggy hair, and Ralph suppressed a shiver. He shut his eyes, trying to blot him out.
"It was your fault, you know, Ralph." Jack spoke idly, like he was making an offhand comment about the weather. "If you'd just joined my tribe...no, if you'd just let me be chief in the first place, none of this would've happened. Nobody would've had to die." His fingers began to toy with the tendrils of hair at the back of Ralph's neck, making his shoulders flinch. "You can't blame me. And I'm a far better chief than you, you know. I would've protected everyone. From the beast."
Ralph shut his eyes tighter, though it made his head throb; anything to keep Jack out, anything to keep out the beast. He's lying, Ralph thought, he's lying, lying, but it was hard to silence him when he was tracing a finger down Ralph's spine, over the ridges of the hard scabs on his back. Jack gently traced one scar with his thumb, slowly, and it takes all that's left of Ralph not to scream at him.
"'S awfully generous of me, Ralph, to have Roger spare you. He did so want to kill you. He simply detests the fact I keep you alive. A real terror, he is." Jack said, and Ralph could hear the smile creeping into his voice, as he traced the jagged (thankfully, not infected) scars over tender bruises. "So, you really ought to be thanking me, don't you think?"
Ralph tried his best to keep his breath even, not to get too angry. Losing his temper with Jack would just be asking for trouble. He wouldn't be able to fight him, anyway; he felt too limp and sore all over to even fathom doing anything more than walking.
"You'll thank me eventually." Jack said, after a long pause, and his fingers slowly combed down through Ralph's hair. "You will. S'awfully rude not to, when I let you live, and I keep my tribe away from you, and I bring you water, and I let you have meat that you didn't help hunt. Nobody's allowed to even touch you, 'cept for me. Nobody else gets treated like that, you know."
Ralph almost said he didn't want Jack to touch him ever again, touch him, go near him, mention him, he didn't even want to think about Jack, he just wanted Jack to leave him alone. But what would be the use? Why should Jack listen to him? Ralph couldn't fathom why Jack still kept him around - he would've thought he'd be used as a punching bag, but that only happened maybe once or twice. Ralph came to the conclusion that that was probably Samneric's job, or one of the littluns.
"Oh, Ralph." Jack said softly, curling a strand of hair around his finger. "The silent treatment will only work for so long. You know you won't be able to stay away from me forever." His fingers brushed the shaggy hair aside, held it for a second. "You need me, you know." He adds, almost as an afterthought. Ralph tensed all over, and Jack kissed the back of his neck, once, dry lipped, lingered for a heartbeat. Then he laughed. Ralph wanted to be sick.
He felt the weight of Jack's presence disappear, and he heard the sound of sand being shifted with footsteps and shouted orders in the background, so his shoulders relaxed a little. He let himself exhale. Tried to focus on the gentle sound of the waves. Tried to ignore the tingling on the back of his neck, the throb in his temples, the ache in his stomach. He brought his knees tighter to his chest.