Title: A Traitor In Their Midsts
Author: dw/suspencer
Summary: I think Locke is as evil as the day is long. And this is basically what think would have happened if Ethan and Locke had been in cahoots.
Rating: Kinda squicky, just warning.
Characters: Boone, and the rest, as well as some of my own creations
Notes: I have this thing, I like to torture Boone and Charlie…. This time it's Boone's turn.
He was owned.
That's what he was now.
Owned.
A slave; at the beck and call, whim and will of the people that owned him.
And he blamed Locke.
If he ever saw that old codger ever again, he was going to kill him. If he lived that long, that was.
His thoughts were cut short by the sharp crack of a whip against his back.
"Up, you mangy mainlander!" The booming voice commanded. "Up, I say! UP!" He barked.
Boone winced sharply as he struggled to his feet from where he had been kneeling on the ground; resting for the first times in days, maybe even weeks. They never let him rest anymore. They didn't allow him to sleep or eat or anything else for that matter. If his brain hadn't been so muddled and lethargic, he would have realized it was 'their' way of stripping him both literally and figuratively, of his 'other life' and all the things that he had once possessed. His clothes had been burnt the night they had 'bought' him, replaced with filthy rags that were either far too big or far too snug. They stripped him of his name as well, no longer was he called "Boone", no longer was he referred to as a human; he no longer had a name, just a pet name 'bastard'. It still hadn't lost its sting.
The whip cracked against his back once more, his back arched; pained, causing his 'owners' to snicker at him. It was part of their favorite pastimes, that and see how much pain they could cause him before he lost consciousness, how fast could they wake him after he'd lost consciousness, and how much could they taunt him with food before he started 'offering' himself to them for it. The latter game was played everyday, all day, and he never won. Two more cracks of the whip signaled his direction as he started to trudge across the football field sized orchard-at least, what was going to be an orchard once he had plowed it up properly. The sun was beating down on his bare back and chest. He couldn't see the sun, but he could feel the oppressive heat it was giving off, either that, or his fever had worsened, if possible. He could faintly hear their hearty laughter in the background. It reminded him how much he wanted to die. He wanted away from the laughter, away from the leering stares and comments, and touches and forced offers of his body in their beds for food. But he also knew that there was no escape.
There was no impending rescue.
There was no way out of his situation, except death.
There was no escape because, as Locke had kindly pointed out, the others would believe him. Who wasn't going to believe the beloved hunter? And besides that: "Boone, my boy, whose really going to miss you? I mean, really REALLYgoing to miss you? Shannon?" Locke snorted. "It'll be days before she even notices that you're even gone. And when I tell them that you decided to go off on your own," he shrugged. "Who's going to question me? After all, I'm one of the good guys."
He wanted to scream. He wanted to scream so badly. But he couldn't. Not even if he wanted to, and God, how he wanted to scream. He hadn't been able to scream for the last month. Scream, talk, whimper, beg, plead; all things that required a voice, a voice that he hadn't had in a month due to lemons.
Lemons?
Yes, Lemons, a steady diet of the lovely acidic fruit had muted his vocal chords. And that's exactly the way they wanted him. Or as they put it: "We like it this way. This way you can't say anything, even when we march you up to the hill above your allegeds friends camp and show you how your alleged friends have all but forgotten their wayward fellow castaway and take you- by force, in thier presence, they won't know a thing."
The sting of the whip signaled his need to stop and turn once more.
He was going to die soon. He knew this. He had more infections in his body than he had ever thought it was humanly possible to have and still be able to function on the basest of human levels. His temperature was high, he knew this only because there was one single solitary non-sadist in the entire (rundown) castle, and she had felt his forehead and pulled back as though her hand had been scorched. She had whispered that it wouldn't be long before they could no longer deny his condition and be forced to their free him or feed him properly. He wasn't sure which one she wanted, but secretly he prayed that she wanted a little of both. If freed he wasn't going to leave her there, there wasn't an ice cubes chance in hell of that. He had never seen her face; as they kept him perpetually 'blinded' by a blindfold that never came off- it made it easier to jump him from behind and beat him senseless- but he had heard her soft voice as it told him that she wasn't going to leave until he slept a little, even if it were only for a few seconds she wanted him to close his eyes and relax; but had been too difficult to relax, to let go and trust this nameless stranger. He had heard her voice and felt her soft fingers across his cheek as she titled his head up for him to EAT some food she had pilfered from their dinner, and some water she had saved just for him. He had also felt her lips across his fevered forehead, and faintly heard her whisper reassurances that help was on it's way… but that had been days ago, or was it weeks now(?)- time blended together now, and he was sure that they had either killed her, or locked her up somewhere, which led him to only one conclusion.
He was most definitely going to die soon.
No one could live like this. Animals were treated better than this. Even mistreated animals got better treatment than this. Animals were fed! Animals were allowed to SLEEP! They weren't kept trussed up, with two of their vital limbs- in his case, his hands, tied, his arms wrapped awkwardly around his frame, bound and knotted so that he couldn't defend himself, or even catch himself in case he fell; or as often the case was, tripped. Animals weren't beaten, wailed upon for no other reason than they existed. Animals weren't laughed at because they were so weak and feeble from lack of food or sleep, that they could barely hold themselves up They weren't blind folded and whipped, or blind folded and beaten, or blindfolded while being forced to do manual labor.
Another crack caught his attention, but it wasn't of the whip, it was of thunder. He heard his 'masters' cursing, and running towards him. They pulled and roughly yanked the makeshift yoke from around his neck and dragged him across the field to two designated poles, there they tied a rope around his neck, bent him over roughly, and tied his head and neck to the pole while two others roughly tied his hips and waist to the other pole. This was to ensure that he was a) uncomfortable, and b) couldn't drink the rain water- as they wouldn't want him to find any relief from the sores in his throat or chapped lips.
They left him there as the torrents of rain fell from the sky; the thunder and lightening were the only thing that punctuated the deafening sound of the rain. But he didn't mind, because at least with the cool rain pounding against him they couldn't see or hear him sobbing his heart out. Oh, he may have been a 'weak mainlander' as they loved to ridicule him, but he still had some pride left, and he never let them see him cry. They could see his fear, his terror, his pain, his agony and his hopelessness, but he never let them see his tears. Those were reserved for the girl with the pretty voice whom had held him, and comforted him as he wept that painful first night, and the rain. And without the girl there, and since there had been no rain in weeks- the dam had built up and he could feel his resistance waning- thank God for the rain he thought absently as he sobbed quietly, his warm salty tears mingling with the cool rain until he couldn't tell where one began and the other ended.
He wanted to die.
For once in his life there was no conflict.
No 'Do I love Shannon, or do I LOVE Shannon' no, 'Do I do what mother says, or do I go my own way' no a and b comparisons. He wanted to DIE.
The only thing he regretted was leaving Shannon with no family on the island.
Even at the end, I keep her on my mind-
"Hurry, please, you must hurry!" The young girl urged as she, two other cloaked figures and a wolf ran into the rundown castle. She shut the door behind them and quickly led them to a safer place. "Here, over here." She directed them towards an opened door. They all rushed across the massive hall and made it into the room just in time, for as soon as she closed the door three drenched men walked in through the front door, laughing hysterically.
One of the hooded figures pulled her away from the door, watched the men, keeping the door open just enough for her to see out and listen to them.
"You think he'll be okay out there?"
This caused the other two to laugh even harder. "You ask, as though we care! HA!" He snorted, doubled over with laughter. "If he dies we can always just have John Locke lure another one into our hands!" He exclaimed with a burst of laughter.
"Beside that," the third man chuckled heartily. "Next time, we get a girl, as PROMISED!" They laughed so hard that they had to hold onto one another to stay upright.
She closed the door softly before turning to the others in the room. Her companion had shed his hooded cloak and was leaning against the wall as he watched the rain fall.
"What in the name of ZUES is going on out there? Is this the reason you dragged us out of our tents three days ago?" She demanded as she tore off her cloak and threw it onto the bed, barely missing the wolf that lay next to the girl that was sitting on the edge of the bed.
"I had to do something!" She exclaimed her voice nearing a sob.
"Why? What was so damned important that it couldn't wait a week and a freakin' half for me and Russia over there too get our CRAP together before we come out here?" She demanded stalking across the room and getting into her face.
"You haven't seen what they are doing to him! You haven't seen how they are TREATING him!" She sobbed into her hands.
"Say huh?" She asked in confusion, growing alarmed at the usually cool calm and collected girls sudden burst of emotion. She knelt in front of her and lifted her head with her hands on either side of her face. "Seen them do what t'who?" She asked, lost.
"The BOY!" She sobbed uncontrollably, the sound rousting the man from his thoughts and causing him to look away from the window. "Aurora, you haven't seen the conditions he lives in! He's sick, and he's tired, and thirsty, and starving to death, and they don't care!" She shook her head as she sobbed. "They. Don't. CARE!"
Aurora's and Russia's eyes bet over the younger girls head as she pulled the girl against her in a tight hug. "Ssssh, Aurora and Russia are here now." Russia nodded meaningfully and she nodded back, rubbing the young girls back in an effort to calm her down. She pulled away after a second, wiping the tears from the young girls face before asking. "Now, Alex, tell me about this young man. What's wrong? How long has this been going on?" She asked softly.
Alex sniffled, putting her long black hair over her shoulder and wiping at her eyes. "I- I don't know his name, he hasn't been able to speak. B-But that's because they only allow him…" she sniffled, tears flooding her chestnut eyes. "They only allow him to eat lemons." Russia looked up sharply from his spot by the window, a look of horror etched upon his features. "He's been here about a month, an-and I thought I could do it, Aurora, I really did think I could take care of him until you came, but- but they don't let him sleep anymore. An-and they keep hurting him and he can't defend himself, and he needs to eat, but the scraps I give him aren't enough… they treat him so badly… they treat him like a - like a- like a beast of burden… but worse… so much worse."
"Russia," She said in a warning tone but he was having nothing of it. He grabbed his cloak and put it on as he walked across the room. Once at the door he turned and whistled for the wolf. "Russia! You don't-" but he was already out the door.
"Shit, shit, SHIT!" She exclaimed, jumping to her feet and grabbing her cloak and racing after him. She turned at the door and motioned for her to follow. "Don't you think we'z leavin' you herr with them loony tunes, nuh uh. Not no wayz not no how!" She spoke as the younger girl scrambled to the door.
They raced around the building in the pouring rain to the front entrance. They shoved their way through the gigantic doors and raced to the ball room; where the men liked to lounge around lazily during the rain storms. They burst through the door just as thunder rolled in the heavens causing the men to jump a little.
"What the-"
"Ain't hayl, just lil' oh me, honey." She whipped off the hood and looked around. "Wher' is he?"
"Where is who?"
"Don't get smart with me Ethan. Tayl me, wher' is Russia?" Her drawl became thicker her anger grew.
Ethan looked at his companions and shrugged. "You two aren't due here for another week and a half." His eyes narrowed as he noticed Alex hiding behind her. "Alex-"
"Donchu even go 'err." She put out her arm to shield Ethan's view of Alex.
"Oh, we WILL go there." Ethan growled as Markus and Grant advanced towards them.
"I'm supposed to be eskerrt of these two knuckle heads?" She asked incredulously as she readied herself for a fight.
Lightening lit up the sky and thunder cracked causing them all to jump a little. They turned to see a figure on the balcony illuminated by the sudden clap of lightening.
"RUSSIA!" She gasped as he kicked in the French doors and carried in the limp, seemingly lifeless body of the boy he had found outside.
The hood had fallen to his shoulder as he slowly stepped inside the room, dripping wet.
"You should have left him out there old man."
Russia paid no attention to them, which irked the men as they started to advance on him. But a low growl stopped them.
Not one, but two large wolves stepped out from behind him and slowly started advancing on the men, growling and bearing their teeth.
When Grant reached for a weapon the one of the wolves lunged at him causing all three men to run away.
Aurora would have said something smart but caught herself as Russia walked forward and laid the young boy down on the floor, his hands trembling as he made sure that his head didn't hit the ground too harshly.
"Oh Sheezus… Tayl me.. Taaaayl me we ain't too late!"
Alex let out a sob as she rushed to the still form on the floor. "No… No… Nooo…." She sobbed, resting her head against his chest and wailing aloud her grief. But after a second she stopped suddenly. She gasped, pressing her ear against his chest.
"He's alive." She gasped sitting up. "Oh God, he's alive."
Aurora rushed to her side, yanked her hood down, pulled her waist length raven black hair over her shoulder and put her ear to his mouth. "By God, he's breathin', just berrly, but breathin." She looked up at Russia and smiled. "Anyone evah tell yall Rushkies 'at you gots good timin'?"
The older man looked away, almost bashfully. She nodded, knowing that he didn't really like attention being brought to him.
Aurora looked around for something warm to put on him but could see nothing of any use. She looked down at his face for a second for a second and caught herself doing a double take.
"What the Sam Heel…" She drawled out in a barely audible gasp.
Russia looked up startled.
"His skin… it's… it's… yella lookin'."
Alex bit her lip anxiously, she was sure that Ethan and his friends would be back any second and she wanted to get the boy somewhere safe as soon as possible, he needed to be away from them, he needed safety and security and sitting like lame ducks in the middle of their castle wasn't her idea of a security.
"It's because of the lemons." She whispered, hearing Aurora mention the pallor of his skin. "He's eaten so many that his skin has turned kind of yellowish." She started biting on her fingernails nervously. "Can we please, get him somewhere less out in the open?" She sobbed frantically.
Russia nodded to Aurora. "Yeah, Alex, you know of anywhere close to the outskirts of the castle that'll keep us outta da rain and fah fah away from the lunkheads?"
Alex nodded after a second and stood up. "Are one of you two gonna…" she trailed off as Russia picked Boone up off the floor and Aurora took off her cloak, draping it over his thin frame,
Her chin trembled, tears flooded her eyes, her worst fears were being allayed by two people who were putting life and limb on the line for a young man that was a total stranger to them. Aurora took her hand into her own and smiled softly, reassuringly to the troubled girl before her. "Lead the way chil', we're followin' you."
She nodded and led them out of the large dining hall and into the massive labyrinth of halls. She made sure to be careful and look down all the hallways before venturing out down any of the corridors. Eventually they made their way to a storage shed type building on the outskirts of the property.
"I've never been in here before; I don't know if the door is unlocked." She whispered to Aurora, fear reflecting in her eyes.
"Donchu worry none." She turned to Russia and nodded. He stepped around them and effortlessly kicked the door in.
Aurora smiled at Alex. "He's m'own poysonal lock pick, ya know what I mean?" Alex giggled as they entered the room.
They all stopped dead in their tracks, Russia cursed under his breath. "Holy Guacamole." Breathed Aurora, before her face turned red. "Them woythless sumabitches…" she muttered under her breath.
"I don't understand… what is it?" Alex asked, perplexed.
"It's a- for the lack of a better term, it's a storage unit," she cursed again. "Those lousey, woythless sumabitches." She turned to Russia as he gently laid Boone down on the only cot in the room. "I'm gonna keeell, you got that Rushky? They'z dead men, the whole lot of 'em." She growled.
"What is all of this stuff?" She asked curiously.
"Oh, just medications, cooking utensils, clothing, tarps- you know, essential things that one needs when you don't have a permanent roof over yer head." She bit off the last part.
"Oh."
"Oh, indeed." She reiterated sarcastically as she took inventory of the 'inventory'. "I just can not believe this. I mean, dammit, Russia!" She stomped her foot angrily. "We've been trading with these idiots since we figert out that we were stuck her' and not ONCE have they shown us this crap. And LOOK what they've got here. Matches, friggen MATCHES, tarps, ropes, LANTERNS, and goll dernt WHEEL BARROW!" She pointed to each item as she listed them off. "We NEED this crap." A slow smile curved her lips. "An' we'z takin' it too." She decided with a nod.
She turned around and watched as Russia inspected the body, with a sinister smile she turned around, grabbed a lantern, some matches and some fuel before going over to the bed. "Here," she sat the lantern down on a crate and lit the wick, making sure that it stayed dim. "Much, much better, don't you say, Russia?"
The Russian merely nodded as he continued to look over his body. She looked over his shoulder and saw what had made him so unresponcive. "Sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph… what the HAYL have they done to this poor chil'?" She whispered, her stomach doing somersaults. "What are those?"
(Italics for Russian. I don't speak it, and getting a translation will make this look weird o.0)
"They are rope burns, just like the rope burns, around his neck, throat, wrists, ankles and torso. His back is nothing but one large wound. The Almighty only knows what condition his ribcage is in." He explained grimly, keeping his voice quiet and low.
"Rope burns? You mean, like he was struggling against them and stuff?"
"He wasn't in them of his own free will; that is apparent." He paused before adding. "I am glad that you were not there when I found him. He was trussed up against to poles, unconscious, with his head and neck tied against one pole and his hips and waist tied to the other. It looked to be most uncomfortable."
"There's something you aren't tell me, isn't there?"
He paused again. "Yes, when I cut loose his head, he regained consciousness, and sat up with his mouth open, as though he were trying to drink the rain. When I put my water bottle to his lips I noticed that his hands were not coming up to support it. It was then that I realized that his arms were still bound to his sides. I made the mistake of speaking; he did not understand Russian and passed out once more. That was when I cut him loose and brought him into the castle. As I ran to the castle our wolf friend howled and another appeared." He looked at her for a long moment. "It was as though they knew that we would need the protection."
Aurora gulped as she crouched next to her friend. "At least we have the protection," she glanced up at Alex, Russia followed her gaze. "You realize, we can't leave her here now, not if we want her to live to see us ever again."
He nodded. "Yah, she will have to come with us." He turned his eyes back to the nameless young boy in front of him. "But this one; what if he has people, familia; looking for him, what do we do? How do we find them?"
She shook her head. "We'll haveta thank bout that later, we gotta get 'em both outta her' and fah, fah away from these…these…" she let out a low growl, as she was unable to think of a proper word to describe them.
He nodded solemnly, his own fury was growing, but he was smothering it down while their attentions were needed elsewhere. They both watched the unsteady rise and fall of the boy's chest for a few seconds before Alex walked up holding a dampened cloth in her hands.
"Watcha got 'er, Alex?" She asked softly, knowing that the young girl was frazzled and scared and jumpy.
"A piece of cloth… I hope it was okay for me to get it wet with the rain… no one saw me; it didn't take very long either… I'm sorry…" she rambled breathlessly.
"Woah, hold on, breathe, darlin', breathe." She instructed and the younger did as told and took a few deep breaths. "Okay, its okay, I'm sure the wolves have them running still. Secondly, don't apologize. And thirdly, what's it fer?" She asked curiously.
"Him," she nodded, wringing some of the excess water from the cloth. "When you found him, was he blindfolded?" Russia nodded. "He's been like that since they 'bought' him." She whispered distastefully. "He hasn't had that blindfold off, except for now… and it'll probably hurt his eyes… I think…" she was growing anxious again, rambling and talking in incomplete sentences.
Aurora put her hand on top of Alex's and smiled softly. "It's a very good idear you've got 'er, chil'. Now how bouts you go and do it before he wakes up in pain, 'hear?"
Alex nodded and put the cloth over his eyes. Aurora and Russia shared a meaningful look. God, I hope his people are as worried about him as she is.
-close kinda-
Shannon was on the verge of a full blown asthma attack, but she didn't want anyone to know, because then they would know why and if they said it out loud it would make it true, and if it were true, then – then- then she was alone. Really and for truly alone.
She tried the breathing exercises that Jack had taught her, she tried breathing through her nose, she tried thinking calm thoughts, but EVERY SINGLE calm thought that ran through her head involved BOONE! And HE was the reason that she was having the attack.
She felt light headed and her legs felt like jell-o. Just as she was sure that she were about to pass out a pair of arms shot out and pulled her against someone's chest and eased her to the ground. "Shannon, what's wrong?" Sayid asked with a quiet, but sincere concern.
"It's been… a month…" She rasped, wincing at the sound of her voice. "He… he wouldn't… leave me… for this long… I know …. Him… I know… my Boone… he wouldn't… he wouldn't …. Do this… Not to me… not when I… don't… have… my … meds."
"But Locke said-" He stopped himself as she started to rub her chest with one hand and shot him a glare. "Do you not trust Locke?"
"Not… as far… as I …. can throw… him…" she wheezed.
Sayid nodded, looked up and was able to flag down Sun. "Do you have any of the- eucalyptus that you gave her before?" He asked making a motion over his chest and pointing to Shannon. Sun nodded, and scurried off to her shelter. Sayid turned back to Shannon. "Why would Locke lie to us?"
Shannon shook her head, tears forming in her eyes, and it wasn't from the lack of being able to breathe. "I can't… explain it… but I've been having… weird dreams… feeling pain… when I'm not … hurt." She looked away as though ashamed.
Sun returned with the concoction in hand, and handed it to her; Shannon thanked her, and started applying it liberally to her chest, breathing deeply. Sayid watched in half fascination, half awe as the color returned to her cheeks and her breathing leveled out.
"You were about to say something else when Sun came over." He prodded.
She shook her head. "It's, it's nothing, really."
"Shannon," he started softly. "Nothing is 'nothing' on this island, if something has happened to you that you believe may be of some relevance- "
"I hear his voice, okay?" She confessed hurriedly. "Not like the whispers in the woods you told me about; this is different. It's like he's; it's like he's here, in my head, telling me that he needs me, that it hurts and he doesn't know how much more he can hold on. He tells me to believe in myself; something that Boone wasn't prone to doing, but he tells me, he tells me he" she gulped a little, "he tells me he loves me. He tells me that he needs me." Her chest was tight again, but not from an asthma attack, she felt like she was cracking, she didn't want to crack, not in front of Sayid. "He tells me- he tells me not to trust Locke… to stick close to camp, and Jack and Charlie and you." She shook her head. "I'm just going crazy, that's all." She sighed sadly, her finger absently running through the sand.
Sayid sat back and took this all in. Boone, telling Shannon, to stick close to him? He wasn't sure if he necessarily believed in telepathy, but there was one thing he was sure of, Boone would never endanger Shannon, he was always looking out for her, protecting her… and if that meant telling Shannon to trust HIM- "I do not believe that you are going crazy." Shannon looked up sharply.
Sayid paused, choosing his words carefully. "Give it two days, two days, can you manage that?" She nodded emphatically. "In two days, if either of us get the feeling that Locke is being suspicious, then I will-"
"WE-' she interrupted him. "We'll be going…" she looked around nervously. "I'm taking what he said to heart; I'm sticking close to, you." She emphasized.
He nodded. "Very well," he paused. "But tell no one of this, we need not have 'him' intercepting us, no?"
Shannon nodded. "Thank you, Sayid… For believing me and my crazy story." She whispered tearfully.
He chuckled a little. "Shannon, I've lived in the desert; where it gets so hot that people would see mirages of coke-a-cola machines and ice cream parlors. You're story; while far fetched, is nothing that I haven't heard before."
Tbc…