Apologies that this is not an update for 'Zero', but I couldn't get this out of my head! Hopefully the next instalment will be up by the weekend. Life has been a bit crazy recently which is why I haven't been updating or writing anything new for a while.

Lost does not belong to me! Some of the lines in here are from 'The Economist' in Season 4.

As always all feedback is deeply appreciated!

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I Remember

Many people believed that Benjamin Linus was incapable of feeling guilt. His personality did not seem to be susceptible to such things; he was manipulative and ruthless, calculating and shrewd, but never did he seem to care how he affected other people. How very wrong those unperceptive people were. He cared very much about how he affected other people… well, certain people. And, even if he could not admit it to anyone else, he could admit to himself that he had made mistakes. Big mistakes, even. In the past he had not had much time to contemplate such matters, his hands and thoughts being fully occupied by being leader of the 'others', but now that he was off the Island time was the one thing he possessed in abundance.

It was four o'clock in the afternoon on a chill January day in Berlin and Ben was waiting for Sayid to return from his latest assignment. And he had better come back with results this time, Ben thought venomously. Unfortunately Sayid did have a certain weakness for beautiful women which Ben hadn't counted on, and as a result he was particularly reluctant to get the job done this time. The last time Ben had seen Sayid he had had to remind him, rather forcefully, of the reason why he was working for him in the first place. Not that Ben was sure he had actually managed to get through to the man, when it came to matters of the heart Sayid was completely blind.

Ben would never let a woman affect him in such a way; he had made that mistake before, and he wasn't about to make it again.

'Annie.' He let her name roll out in a sigh to the empty room.

Recently his thoughts had been turning to her memory more and more frequently. Maybe it was simply because he had more time on his hands, he wondered as he stared down the list of associates of Widmore that were next to be 'dealt with', or maybe because it was approaching the date when everything had happened. Either way, Ben could not afford to lose concentration, not when he would soon be paying Widmore a visit in person.

Even as he thought this he was overcome with memories of Annie. He could still remember her smell; how many hours had he laid awake at night just holding her, breathing in the scent of her skin and hair? The way she had looked into his eyes as he made love to her, it took his breath away even to think of it now, like he was the most important person in the world to her and nothing else mattered. He supposed that had been the problem from the start: she was not the most important thing in the world to him, and in the end it had torn them apart.

The Island and Jacob. Even now, as he sat in a colourless office adjacent to a veterinary surgery, he was ruled by them. He would do anything to protect the Island and serve Jacob; he had done anything, without questioning his orders. Because he loved the Island. But then he had loved Annie too. She was a sacrifice the Island demanded, or so he had been told by Richard. He had tried to offer her a way out, to go with him and avoid the Purge, but she had refused. Many times since that night he had woken in a cold sweat, having been haunted by another nightmare, memories of Annie's cold, dead eyes imprinted on his mind.

The ironic thing was that even though Ben had got everything he wanted, the Island free of the Dharma Initiative and, eventually, becoming leader of the 'others', he still felt bereft inside like he had left behind part of his soul in the process. He had lost Annie and, with her, had lost the sense of what it was like to feel complete. It had lingered like a bad smell in the background for many years.

Alex had helped to cure him, to a certain extent; indeed he had loved her as deeply as any father would. There had been times when she was the only source of light in his life. She had given him strength to carry on when he felt nothing but despair. But if Widmore was to be believed then Ben had betrayed the Island by not killing her and Rousseau; it was a thought that haunted him. Had he prolonged Alex's suffering by not killing her?

Guilt surged through Ben's veins when he thought of that fateful day, when Keamy had forced Alex to her knees and pointed a gun at the back of her head, his poor, innocent girl. Ben had been so sure that he could save her. After all, didn't he always get what he wanted by using careful words? By manipulating? He had miscalculated. Or rather, Widmore had, when he made the mistake of changing the rules. Widmore had no idea the sort of anger he had unleashed in Ben that day.

Once you let your grief become anger it never goes away, I speak from experience.

Ben could not, would not, forget what had happened. Widmore really had no idea who he was dealing with.

In the end the Island had been his only mistress, even though she had made him do awful things, he couldn't stop himself from crawling back to her and asking for more. That didn't mean he didn't feel guilt for the terrible things he had done, and even he couldn't deny they were terrible, but in the end he knew - or hoped - that his work would be worth it. Because if it was not worth it - if his work had not been enough - he would not be responsible for his actions. He had sacrificed everything; he had sacrificed Annie, his beautiful, beautiful Annie, for the Island. And his darling Alex had been taken from him too. He had lost so much, more maybe than he was willing to give.

This was why he was sat in a cold, empty office in Berlin waiting for that damned Sayid to return from his assignment. If he managed to beat Widmore in this war, and he was more than sure that he would, then he would be able to return to the Island as its rightful leader. He was prepared to be as ruthless as in the past to achieve his goal, perhaps even more so, because now he had nothing to lose.

Ben glanced around him and realised he was sitting in near-complete darkness. He had been so lost in thought that he had not even noticed nightfall creeping over the place. Cursing himself for becoming so distracted, again, he went over to the monitors on the opposite side of the room. For half an hour he sat and watched, tapping his fingers impatiently against the desk, until his saw a shadowy figure stagger in through the front doors of the entrance lobby downstairs. Smiling grimly to himself Ben stood and waited for the tell-tale sounds of dogs barking that meant Sayid was approaching the operating room.

Sayid was certainly in a real state this time, sweat was pouring off his brow and he was clutching his side, luckily for him Ben was prepared for such an eventuality.

'Take your shirt off,' Ben said.

Sitting down opposite Sayid, Ben examined the wound intensely, but really his thoughts were on more important matters.

'Is she dead?' He asked, harshly.

'Yes.' Sayid looked like he was about to cry. Disgust shot through Ben, but he didn't let it show on his face. Didn't Sayid realise who this woman was? He picked up a needle and put the correct solution in that would numb the area of Sayid's wound.

'Why didn't she kill you?' Ben asked, as he stuck the needle in the wound.

'She was trying to get information from me.' Sayid replied, grimacing at Ben's actions.

Ben felt something akin to triumph ripple through him. So, Widmore knew he was after him? Good.

'What sort of information?' He replied, carefully.

'She wanted to know who I worked for. She wanted to know about you.'

'Of course she did.' Ben paused, and looked directly into Sayid's eyes. Tears were threatening to overcome the man; he knew that if didn't speak quickly then he might lose his weapon against Widmore. 'Why are you crying? Because it hurts? Or because you were stupid enough to care for her?' Sayid really knew nothing of what it was to make sacrifices, Ben though savagely as he said this. 'These people don't deserve our sympathies. Need I remind you what they did the last time you thought with your heart instead of your gun?'

'You used that to recruit me into killing for you,' said Sayid bitterly.

'Do you want to protect your friends or not, Sayid?' He really was far too easy to manipulate, Ben thought smugly, it took hardly any effort at all. Unlike Annie… she had never allowed him to be that way with her. Ben caught himself before he lost his focus again. 'I have another name for you.'

'But they know I'm after them now.'

Ben fixed Sayid with his most intense stare. 'Good.'