Two Days
The knife felt good in his hand. It felt right; like a home he needed to return to after a long absence. He slowly slide the blade against a rock his opposite hand and relished the grating sound that some would find unbearable.
He sat cross-legged on the beach, staring at the crashing waves as he methodically moved the blade back and forth across the stone.
Two days. His heart and soul reeled in grief.
Two days. Dried blood streaked his tank top.
Two days.
He blinked, but dared not close his eyes. When he did, he heard the gunshot and saw smoke rise from the barrel. He saw the shock on her face as she ran from her pursuer and was met by an equally horrible fate in front of her.
She fell to the jungle floor before him.
He opened his eyes. Had he entertained the nightmare? Had he allow the pain to surface?
No one knew how to talk to him. No one knew what to say. First her brother had died with John and, now, Shannon was dead as well.
When she died, he had wanted to kill something, someone. But, that would not have brought her back. Ana Lucia's actions were not malicious. They were reckless, but not intentional. Did she deserve to die for acting in fear and ignorance? Sadly, no. Because he wanted to kill.
Sayid heard footfalls in the sand approaching from behind. Who was it this time? What sad, but kind platitude would they spin in order to make him feel better?
Jack sank into the sand next to him, sympathy and empathy in his easy smile.
"Whatcha doing?" Jack asked with no hint of digging too deep.
"Meditating…" Sayid responded absently, not looking in Jack's direction.
"Meditating on what?"
At that, Sayid turned to Jack, his grieving eyes, penetrating the doctor.
"Don't worry, Jack. I won't be going on any killing spree."
"I never thought that, Sayid, but given your background, some have concerns."
"Tell them not to worry," Sayid said, placing his sharpening rock into the sand and examining his work on the knife closely.
"It looks mighty sharp," Jack said. "Are you planning on doing some hunting?"
"No, Jack," Sayid replied, still passive in his grief. "I'm doing this for John. He thought I might need to something to do…to keep me occupied. I agreed. Do we really have to do this?"
"What's that?" Jack replied, nonplussed.
"I'll be ok, Jack. I don't need to be watched over."
"I know. Most of us just want to be supportive, I guess. You're an important part of the team."
"The team?" Sayid said, raising a dark eyebrow.
"You know what I mean."
"I do. I just need time."
"Okay," Jack declared, getting to his feet. "Let me know if you need anything."
"How is Sawyer?"
"Better."
"That's good."
Jack turned and walked back to the campsite. Sayid watch him go. When he was gone, Sayid picked up the rock and began sharpening the knife.