Title: Sabrina
Characters: Sabrina Carlisle, Charlie, Claire
Original Post Date: 12/02/2007
Summary: Sabrina Carlisle wasn't an emotional sort of a person – until her son's plane crashed in the middle of the Pacific. Four years later, a meeting with the crash survivors finally reveals his fate – and that of his step sister.
Disclaimer: I'm playing in somebody else's sandbox here. Don't yell at me for it.
A/N: I've never written anything from Sabrina's perspective before so I hope you guys enjoy!

Sabrina Carlisle had never been an emotional sort of a person. She had barely shed ten tears when her own husband had died. But when she heard that her sons plane had disappeared somewhere in the Pacific she found herself breaking down on a constant basis for no apparent reason.

Her business began to waver, suffering under the weight of her grief and, with it, her prominent social life began to dwindle into nothingness. She took to moping, spending days on end just sleeping or staring vacantly into space. She put on weight, ate whatever food she came across and what had once been a mighty empire of epic proportions began to crumble before her very eyes.

It wasn't that she had been particularly close to her son – she had always been a businesswoman before a mother and she wasn't particularly sorry for that. Her son had grown up just fine without her constantly looking over his shoulder. For her part, all she had to do was remember to say hello to him, remember his birthday and ruffle his hair occasionally.

When the time had come for him to choose between going to college or getting a job, Sabrina offered him the chance to run one of the subsidiaries of her booming enterprise. Boone had been used to the comings and goings of his mothers business since he was a small boy and he slipped into the role effortlessly.

If it hadn't been for his ridiculous relationship with his step sister, Sabrina could have quite happily handed the company over to him. As it were, his devotion to Shannon had been his downfall – and Sabrina's wish to have her business passed down through the family was hopelessly dashed.

It was four years before Sabrina would begin to see a glimmer of hope. A letter came in the mail and in a rare moment of mental clarity she opened it. She scanned it quickly and nearly binned it. It was just some letter from an airline – nothing for her to worry about. She hadn't been travelling in years and she wasn't about to start again now.

Then she took a closer look at the letterhead and began to frantically scan the rest of the letter, words and phrases jumping out at her and gnawing at her eyeballs so that they watered and made her face burn cold.

"...crashed..."

"...marooned..."

"...four years ago..."

"...twenty-five recovered..."

"...believe that you may have had a relative or relatives..."

"...unknown identities..."

At the bottom there was a flight number, the date and time it would be coming in, an airport address, an offer to be reimbursed for the price of the ticket for all her trouble…

She left for Los Angeles the same day.

A private terminal had been set up for the arrival of the crash survivors, free of media sharks. Relatives and old friends hovered hopefully, clutching each other tightly whilst ex-Oceanic officials stood about, grim faced.Sabrina stood alone.

When the gates opened and people began to file out there was a great cry that went up from the assembled crowd. The survivors tiredly welcome their loved ones back into their arms whilst Sabrina scanned them over and over. She still had a sharp eye – despite the years of neglect. She felt more and more self-conscious and frumpy as the last few people trickled out, many people eyeing her sympathetically as they left with their loved ones. Some of the survivors didn't have anyone to pick them up. She almost felt a pang of sadness for them but then she pushed it away. Where was her son? He had someone to pick him up in any case.

Those who had come to collect and had ended up empty handed began to line up to officially cross their loved ones off the flight manifest. Sabrina refused to join them. Boone was here, he had survived and he was going to come off the plane any minute and she was going to take him home and tell him how much she had missed him and how she had despaired when she thought him dead.

A dark haired man crept into the terminal and her heart leapt but of course it wasn't Boone. This man was far too short for one. The sight of long blonde hair beside him made her crane again, just in case. The thought of Shannon surviving and not Boone was laughable of course, and if it was her then Sabrina wouldn't even give her a second glance before making a hasty retreat.

But no, it wasn't Shannon either. This woman was smaller as well – she couldn't believe that she almost mistaken her for her step daughter – and she had a small child by the hand. She and the man managed to escape unscathed from the crowd – there was no one here to pick them up either. Sabrina tried to resist the urge to call out to them. Maybe they had known Boone...?

"Excuse me...?"

They looked up at her, startled out of their familial discourse and she wished immediately that she hadn't said anything. The woman came over curiously, the man trailing behind her. Both of them seemed tentative, almost flighty.

"Yes?"

"My name is Sabrina Carlisle," she tried to remain as dignified as possible but failed miserably when her voice cracked on her next words. "I was just wondering...did you know my son? Boone?"

A flicker of recognition passed between the two of them and they exchanged a pointed look. Sabrina waited edgily.

"Are you his mum?" the woman said and for the first time, Sabrina noticed that she had an accent – although from where she couldn't quite tell. Australia? New Zealand perhaps? She nodded.

"Yes, I'm his mother."

"He died almost four years ago," the man told her quietly. "I'm sorry."

Sabrina rocked back on her heels, the full impact of his words hitting her as he continued to talk.

"...an accident. He was trying to get a radio and the plane fell on him. We only had the one doctor and…well he didn't have the right equipment. He did everything he could but Boone's wounds were pretty fatal."

Sabrina opened her mouth to speak but found no words passing her lips. The woman put a reassuring hand on her arm. "His sister, Shannon? She died as well – not long after him actually. She was shot in the stomach – another accident."

"Seems like you had a few of them out there," Sabrina managed to say, shaking the woman's arm off. "So you mean to tell me that a plane fell on my only son?"

The two of them nodded solemnly and Sabrina shook her head. "No. That's impossible. He can't have gone like…like that."

"I'm sorry but he did," the man said uncomfortably. "I was there Mrs Carlisle, I saw our doctor operating on him before I went to watch Claire give birth."

"No I still...she what?" Sabrina's eyes sharpened to look at Claire. "You gave birth on an island?"

Claire shrugged, flushing. "Yeah. It wasn't so bad really. I wouldn't do it again but…"

An awkward silence fell between the three of them and then the man offered her his hand. Sabrina took it without thinking.

"I'm sorry we had to be the ones to tell you," he murmured. "I wasn't close with either of them but Boone was a good guy."

Claire took Sabrina's hand then. The older woman shuddered at the calluses on the younger woman's fingers. "I didn't know Boone well but I was friends with Shannon," she admitted. "I thought she was a bit…well spoilt when I first met her but she grew a lot in the short time she survived out there. You would have been proud."

Sabrina pulled her hand back abruptly. "Shannon was not my daughter." Claire looked surprised as Sabrina took a sudden step backwards, away from the two of them. "Thank you for your time. I have to go."

Sabrina Carlisle had never been an emotional sort of a person. She had barely shed ten tears when her own husband had died. But when she heard that her only son had died on a freakish island somewhere in the Pacific she found herself sitting outside an airport terminal on the ground with tears pouring down her carefully made up face.