Disclaimer: Own nothing! Clearly!

A/n: I just rewatched "Abandoned" and was reminded of how much I miss Shannon, Shannon/Sayid romance and how much I hate Damon and Carlton (and Ana Lucia) for killing her! This sort of spewed out as a result of the end of that episode. And I experimented with a different sort of style, so I'd love to hear your thoughts. Enjoy! :D

Leaving

Your whole life, it seems, is built on leaving.

Your mother left you when you were too young to understand the concept. Your father told you for years that she had died, but one day you found out the truth and it bothered you. How could someone do that? Just pick up and leave like that? Toss a life aside and go find a new one?

You got a step mother and step brother when your father remarried. And you always felt such a special connection with that brother but never any sort of connection with that mother. You tried. You tried hard, you always, always tried. But she was jealous of how close you were with your father, and hated you for the way you stole her son's heart in such an unexpected way. She was the sun for him until you came along, and she knew she could never top you in your father's eyes. And that's why she hated you.

Your good-hearted step-brother left next. Left to go to New York, left to go grow up and make his way in the world. You missed him dearly and hated that he left you behind, but you still had your father to protect you from the mother you tried so hard to like and be liked by. It was still ok then.

And then your father left. Or, more properly, was ripped from your life possibly when you needed him the most. You were going for that internship in New York and you'd be with that brother you missed and loved so much and you'd achieve a dream you'd had since a child. But then your father died – left, ripped away, gone forever – and you were left in shambles, struggling to find a place, find footing, find someone to care for you.

You tried to find your own way. You got a place, you got a roommate and started to live like a more or less responsible person. You suppose you were still a bit spoiled, living off your dad's money in your bank account, and you weren't in a hurry to find a job. It was still all about that dance internship. You'd make it to New York and you'd work like you never worked before and really make money then. Then no one – not even her, that witch of a woman who somehow mothered someone as wonderful as Boone – could say that you were a spoiled little rich girl.

But that didn't happen. Because then the money ran out – no job, no deposits and that witch of a women refused to lend you so much as penny. And the money your father left you was tied up in that woman's account because she said there'd been a "living trust" and no will. No specific instructions to give a single thing to you so she absolutely wouldn't. Her sarcasm and coldness is biting and hurts you deep.

"I can do this, please." You say.

You're basically begging and you hate that it's come to this. Still, she won't budge. She looks down at you, almost triumphant that now she's the successful one, the top of the pyramid while you're floundering at the bottom. No, not almost. She definitely is triumphant. She turns her back on you and now you know you're screwed. You got the internship but no way to get there to be a part of it.

Boone tries to help you but you can't stand the sad way he looks at you – almost pityingly, like he knows you're incapable so he'll support you while you pretend to be. It's that look you've seen too many times when someone sees a pretty blonde girl, and all they can assume is that you're brainless and spoiled. Maybe he doesn't really feel that way but it's that look, so you scream at him and throw his pity money back in his face and he leaves.

Again, he leaves.

And so you spiral out of control. You get into a few bad relationships, and at first, it's not on purpose. It's just that too many people make you feel worthless so you start to believe it and you're standards then don't become very high. And he always comes to your rescue. It isn't until you notice a pattern that you selfishly take advantage of it. You play the bad relationship card, he comes to rescue you, he pays off the scum bag you're with to free you, and he leaves (always leaving…). So you split the money and after another few tries, you've got it down. It doesn't fail and you learn how to make your own money after all. You learn how to bury the guilt that comes from using people, from using him.

On the island, you feel like it's a chance to start over, to start fresh. No more leaving, no more being left behind. And it's good for a little while, until Boone leaves one last time. Or, more properly, was ripped from your life, possibly when you needed him the most. You were learning to be the girl you used to be before all the bad relationships and your habit of using everyone until you didn't need them anymore. You were doing good, moving on, making amends, repairing your broken soul. But then he died – left, ripped away, gone forever – and you were left in shambles, struggling to find a place, find footing, find someone to care for you.

Sayid was there to pick you up. He saw the real you inside – the one behind the fierce, material mask, the one you were trying to make new again, the one you were worried was gone forever. He stayed by you, he loved you. And all the while, you couldn't help but be absolutely petrified that he was like everyone else. That he didn't believe in you, didn't think you were useful or worthwhile, that he would toss you away like a bit of trash the moment something better came along. That he would leave you. You've had it happen too many times and the thoughts and doubts won't go away.

"I need you to believe in me. No one does." You cry. "They think that I'm some kind of joke. They think that I'm worthless."

"You are not worthless." He says and reaches for you.

"You say that now, but… you're just going to leave me." You break down, your worst fears rising out of your mouth and you can't seem to stop them. "I know, that as soon as we get out of here, you're just going to leave me."

But he doesn't. He doesn't leave you.

With the red blooming from the hole in your stomach, with the rain crashing down around, it's you this time.

It's you who does the leaving.

-end-

A/n: (*sniff*) Dang it, I miss Shannon and Boone. Thanks for reading! Reviews, especially for this new experimental style, would be amazingly appreciated. :D