2007 (1875)

The dazzling blue sky was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes. Around her, the familiar smell of warm earth and dusty dry grass wafted to her nose. She blinked and slowly brought her hand to her green eyes in a delayed reaction to the white hot sunlight. It took a moment for her to come to her senses and when she did, she sat up a little too quickly. Her head was throbbing and her face felt too warm. She clumsily rose to her feet, her full skirts twisting about her long legs. She put out her hands as if to steady herself on something and stumbled forward in surprise as her hands grasped at the air. She straightened, looking about in confusion. The wind whipped her long auburn hair wildly about her face as she took in the hillside. Tall wildflowers flailed about her legs. Her ears were filled with the hushed sound of the waves as they lapped at the shore below.

Not a moment before, she had been alone in that cold, unsympathetic hotel room, the roughly textured and sparkling ceiling swimming and finally fading above her as she lay on the hard bed, her mind cloudy from drinking too much and then recklessly downing half a bottle of muscle-relaxers. It was a combination she believed would end it all, and would finally end everything she had been forced to endure for the past few years for someone she thought she loved once. But now, there she was, back on that damned Island! Her breathing began to grow shallow with fear and tears pricked her eyes. How had it happened? This all had to be merely a dream, just a horrible, horrible dream or some cruel trick the Island was playing on her. Yet, it all felt so real. She hugged her arms around her chest and felt the stiff boning of a corset around her ribs. Her hands came away quickly in horror. She knew exactly where and when she was. She felt the warm trickle of blood from her nose and brought her fingertips up to wipe it away.

"Oh, god," was all she managed to choke out, before falling to her knees. Her hands dug furiously at the ground as if to bury herself alive – anything, anything to get away from this! She knew what awaited her and even being buried alive would be a better choice, unless the Island hurled her out of itself and let her drop into the endless depths of the sea in a merciful death. Her breathing was harsh, and ragged sobs escaped her throat. "No, no, no!" she shrieked as she beat her fists on the torn up ground, chunks of dirt flying around her before she sunk down into child's pose with a sob of defeat, her hands flat against the tumbled earth with her forehead resting on the backs of her hands as she tried to regain her breath.

"Anne?" a voice behind her asked. She squeezed her eyes shut. His voice had to be only in her mind. Yes, that was it. He couldn't be real too, could he? She sat back onto her heels before she dared to look over her shoulder, her face streaked with dirt and tears, her hair tumbling in her pretty face.

"Jacob?" she asked in barely a whisper before he went to her and swept her up in his arms and crushed her to his chest. She clung to him, unable to speak as her tears flowed freely, sobs coming out soundlessly. Behind them some distance, Richard's horse whinnied softly.

"I found her," Jacob called back to Richard without looking back at him, his blue eyes shining with tears. His arms remained tightly around Annie, who said nothing. She stared out at the ocean below them, numb with her disbelief and despair.

1977

"Annie, Annie, Aaaaaaaaaaaannie Baaaaanaaaanieee," a dark haired girl named Gretchen sang as the creaky swing brought her closer, then further away from Annie, who was sulking on a nearby picnic table, hugging her knees to her chest. Annie picked distractedly at some carved initials on the table.

"Just shut up, Gretchen," Annie muttered, looking away.

"What's your problem?" the other girl scoffed, bringing her feet down to the gravel to loudly skid the swing to a halt. She stared at Annie with a mock scowl for a moment. Then she gave a little quirky smile. "Hey, I'm sure he'll be back soon. His dad is still here. He's probably just wandered off somewhere and got lost, the goofball. He always was trying to sneak out, remember? Didn't he tell you that he wanted to become one of the Hostiles? Maybe he actually did it this time."

Annie tugged at the bright white shoelaces of her navy blue keds without looking up at Gretchen who was now winding herself around and around on the swing. The thought of Ben "wandering off" and becoming one of the Hostiles terrified her. If he did that, then she would never see him again and she couldn't stand that thought.

"He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't just 'wander off.' He was taken to the Hostiles by some new recruits. I heard my dad talking to Mr. LaFleur about it. He said he saw Mr. Lafleur and Kate on the videotape taking Ben out of our camp," Annie said fiercely. Then she slumped forward glumly with a deep sigh. She looked up as she heard her father approaching the playground with Roger Linus. Horace Goodspeed walked up to the gate to the playground. His eyes softened with fondness as he approached the girls.

"Hey, baby," he said softly as Annie got up from the table and went over to him.

"Have you heard anything, Daddy?" she asked in barely a whisper, her eyes briefly flitting over to Roger Linus, who hung back awkwardly, his hands shoved in his pockets where they anxiously jingled his keys. His head was down and he was staring absently at the carefully manicured grass. She looked back at Horace, hopeful for some good news. Her fingers curled and tightened around the chain-link fence and she rested her chin on the top bar.

"No," Horace finally said in a whisper with some difficulty, affectionately brushing a strand of hair off her freckled cheek. His hand lingered on her cheek for a moment before he let his hand fall to his side saying, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm going to talk to Richard tonight to see if he has seen or heard anything. I promise we will find Ben, okay?"

Annie swallowed hard to keep her tears at bay and she nodded, trying to appear more confident in her father than she felt. "Okay, Daddy. I know you'll find him," she whispered. Horace leaned over the fence and pressed a kiss to the top of her hair, holding her tightly to him for a moment. When he let her go, he turned away slightly to blink away some tears. Her disappointment was almost more than he could bear.

"You should go inside, kiddo. It's getting dark," he said, his voice gaining a little more firmness and authority than it had moments before. He looked over at Gretchen who was still winding herself up with the swing until the swing chains popped from being wound so tightly and she let herself go, spinning wildly around on the swing. "You too, Gretchen," he said, giving her a little wave.

"Okay, Mr. Goodspeed," Gretchen said easily. She slid off the swing once it straightened and jumped off before she linked her arm with Annie's as they walked through the gate, then through the grove of trees to the sunshine yellow cottages. Horace and Roger watched the girls go.

"You got a good kid there, Horace," Roger said with a small, tight smile. "She's been a good friend to Ben." Horace turned to Roger and gave a little nod, then put his hand on his shoulder.

"Come on. Let's go wait for Richard."

2007 (1875)

Jacob silently set a mug of cold water in front of Annie before sitting across the table from her. The fire crackling in the pit was the only sound in the hollow, cavernous room as she greedily gulped down the water. She set the empty mug down with a dull thud, and then looked up at him. His eyes never strayed from her face. There was a tense silence between them for several moments as they stared at each other.

"What am I doing back here?" she finally demanded in a low voice, her fingers tapping impatiently against the sides of the mug. Her eyes blazed into his, but he still did not look away from her.

"Look, I know you're upset, Anne, and—and you have every right to be, but—"

"What am I doing back here?" Annie demanded again, raising her voice and hitting the table with her open hand on the last word. Across the room, Richard jumped slightly where he had been sitting in front of the fire, lost deep in thought. He looked briefly over at his shoulder at the two. "And what am I doing like this?" she asked angrily, pulling at the simple light mint green and rose patterned fabric of her dress. It was a day dress made of a soft, light cotton fabric that Annie had found in a trunk that had washed ashore after a shipwreck over one hundred years ago. Richard recognized the style of the dress immediately as having belonged to a woman of money given the fine material and cut of the dress and the dainty lace and ribbon that trimmed the neckline and sleeves. She couldn't figure out the elaborate bustle so had altered the dress to be worn without it. It had become one of Annie's favorite dresses. The woman who had owned the dress previously had surely died during the same terrible storm that claimed the ship and several days later, her body washed ashore.

"I died, Jacob," Annie went on intensely, leaning across the table, her eyes full of agony and anger. "I killed myself. I took half a bottle of painkillers after spending the whole night at the bar near the hotel and…and I felt myself die. I felt everything around me just disappear. There was nothingness and then…and then… I was back on this damn Island! I should be dead!" she explained rising slightly.

Jacob flinched slightly as she described her ordeal, but his placid dark blue eyes never left hers. His hand reached over and covered her trembling hand where it rested on the table. He looked up at her silently as his hand carefully took her hand in one of his. A bandage was wrapped around his knuckles. He watched as her brow furrowed slightly as she looked down at his hand. Apparently she hadn't noticed the bandage before.

"What the hell happened to your hand?" she asked quietly and he looked surprised, as though he hadn't been prepared for her question, despite noting that she was looking at his hand.

"Don't worry about it," he said. He could see that she was still curious, but was letting the conversation drop for the time being. "Annie, I know what happened to you," he finally said quietly, returning to her questions. Tears pressed the back of his eyes but he would not allow himself to cry. Not in front of her. He needed to be strong because he knew that their argument would only end in an onslaught of her tears. His other hand covered their joined hands. "But, Anne, we've been through this many times," he said gently. He sighed as she lowered her head as tears streamed down her pretty face. His reserve was quickly fading and his heart squeezed painfully in his chest at the sight of her tears. "You know that it just can't happen. Not on your terms, anyway."

"I know," she whispered tearfully. "I just want… I can't do this, Jacob. I need to be with him."

"And you will be," he assured her in a whisper. "I promise you. Just not now. Now is not the right time for either one of you. A lot is going to happen very soon that involves him, Anne. A lot that you won't understand and a lot that can hurt you, if you get too involved. That's why I sent you away. I wasn't trying to be cruel. I was trying to protect you. And I can't protect you if you stay here." He tenderly brushed away a few of her tears and gave her a loving smile. "When the right time comes, you will be with him again," he reassured her again. "I promise I won't let that time pass you by."

Annie wanted to believe him as she brushed away her tears with her free hand and their eyes met once more. However absent he had often been, Jacob had been nothing but honest with her their entire lives. If he said she would be reunited with Ben, she had no doubt that he would keep that promise. He had never once led her astray and he always seemed to know what was best for her.

In a brief moment, she was flooded with memories of how Jacob had taken care of her when their mother died in a moment at the hand of their brother, and memories of days when they would run about the Island with their brother without a care in the world. Simpler days, to be sure. Days that could never be again. They were some of the few memories that she could remember that she carried with her from centuries before.

Finally, she nodded. She gave his hand a squeeze.

"Thank you, brother," she whispered.