Ben felt disconnected from his body. Annie's screams had faded and an eerie silence filled the house. Several tense seconds passed in which nothing seemed to move or live or even exist. The whispers of hushed voices and muffled footsteps shattered the crushing silence. Ben realized that he had been holding his breath. The door that he had been staring at for the past twenty minutes offered no sign as to what was passing inside, but he could not look away. He clenched his fists and tried not to panic.

"There's always hope, Ben."

Annie's voice materialized in his thoughts as it often did, calming him, forcing him to see things from her perspective. There was hope… there was…

He turned from the door and walked to the window. It was sunny outside. No one was outside enjoying the weather however, at least not anywhere near this house. Not while Annie was suffering. He pressed his forehead to the glass and his eyes fell on the beautiful yellow and red tulips Annie had planted so long ago. "There's always hope…"

There was a faint click behind him as the door separating Annie from him opened. Hesitant footsteps approached. Ben stiffened. Good news would have been delivered quickly. He turned away from the sun and Annie's flowers and faced the doctor. His pitying eyes and the air of defeat in his slumped shoulders and the lined face informed Ben of the worst. Nevertheless, he fought back his rising nausea and waited for the words. "There's always hope…"

"I'm sorry, Ben. She didn't make it."

Ben's vision blurred and for a moment he thought he might black out. But oblivion eluded him and he was forced to hear and comprehend the words of the doctor. The doctor laid a comforting hand on Ben's shoulder. Ben jerked away as though he had been burned. Don't touch me. He didn't want his comfort – he wanted Annie. He walked into her room quickly, without thinking, without considering the words of the doctor who was calling after him to stop. A nurse was in his way. She almost protested his presence, but something in his face cowed her, and she backed away.

Annie was on the bed just as she had been when they had thrust him from the room. Her face was relaxed now, but not at ease. She looked as though she had slipped into an uneasy sleep. For one frantic, illogical moment he thought she had. Oh, he wanted her to wake up.

Her fingers were curled tightly around the sheets – she had died in pain. A horrible choked sob filled the room. Ben realized that he was the one weeping when he felt the tears burning down his cheeks. He wanted to smash everything in his sight. The agonizing grief rose up inside him like a living beast clawing at his chest. He couldn't breathe or think, but he could feel – oh, he could feel. He collapsed with a scream and reached reverently for her hand, gently disentangling it from the sheet. I want to die, I want to die, I want to die…

"There's always hope, Ben."

Oh Annie, you were wrong.



"I'm sorry, Ben." His father looked stiff and awkward in the doorway. Ben didn't even bother to say hello. His father had never cared about him or about Annie so the words were meaningless. Even if he had cared, what good would being sorry have done?

Ben nodded slowly to acknowledge his father's remark. Maybe he would leave. He certainly hoped so. It had only been two days since Annie had died and he still felt like he was living in a nightmare. He had neither the desire nor the ability to tolerate his father's presence – he was just too exhausted. But his father didn't go.

"I asked the Goodspeeds to bring you some dinner."

That was a surprise. His father was demonstrating concern for his wellbeing. This was new. It was a pity that his father was only galvanized into action by a death. His concern came far too late to be useful. At least twenty years too late, in fact. Despite his intense desire to slam the door and walk away, Ben smiled and managed a "thank you". That was what Annie would have wanted.

His father finally left and Ben shut the door. The house was dark and empty. He returned to his seat on the sofa and picked up the wedding photo he had been studying before his father's interruption. Annie's angelic face smiled up at him. They had both been so happy. It had been the happiest day of his life.


"Ben, you know it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding." She was trying to act annoyed, but she was obviously happy to see him. She was stunning in her simple gown. He had always thought that she was beautiful, but today he was certain that she was the most alluring woman he had ever laid eyes on. And she was all his.



Ben's eyes grew unfocused as he remembered further back…


"Are you okay?"

Ben lifted his rain-soaked head and peered at Annie through water-flecked glasses. She was holding an umbrella and looked like an angel of mercy with her blond hair and white dress. Ben was thankful that his drenched condition would conceal the fact that he had been crying.

"I'm fine."

She ignored the obvious lie and asked quietly, "Is it your dad again?"

Ben tensed up, annoyed that she could read him so easily. If it had been anyone else, he would have ignored her and stalked away. But it was Annie. His shoulders drooped. "Yeah," he whispered. Her lips compressed into a thin line and she looked angry for a moment. She moved closer so that the umbrella sheltered him as well as herself and bent down so that their eyes were level. "Come on, Ben. Let's go to my house." He took her hand.

Although the passage of time had dulled many of his childhood memories, Ben never forgot that moment on that particular rainy day. It was the moment he first loved her.


Ben smiled subconsciously at the memory. His eyes slid from the wedding photo to a manila envelope on the table. The spark in his eyes died along with his smile. That envelope reminded him of a far different day – one not nearly as happy.

Ben woke up to find Annie's place beside him deserted and long cold. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, relishing the fact that it was Saturday, and he did not have to put on his uniform and go to work. He planned on spending the day with Annie and his favorite books.

A dish shattered in the kitchen as he strode down the hall in search of coffee. He stepped into the kitchen, expecting to find an annoyed Annie with a broom and dustpan and several pieces of broken ceramic. What he actually saw wiped the smile from his face. A broken mug was lying ignored on the kitchen floor. Annie was in front of the sink leaning heavily on her outstretched arms as though someone had strapped a load onto her back that she could not bear. Her head drooped and her shoulders were shaking with stifled sobs. After his shock had faded, Ben rushed to his wife, intent on demanding that she tell him who or what was bothering her so that he could deal with them. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so angry. Who could have made her cry? He would make them regret it…

Annie whirled around when she heard his footsteps. She knew it was too late to hide her tears, so she didn't even try.

"Good morning, Ben." She smiled weakly.

"Why -" he began, but she cut him off.

"It's not anything that you or anybody else did. So don't bother getting angry and protective, alright? There's nothing that you – or I – can do."

Her eyes filled with tears again, and Ben felt his heart break for her. What did she mean there was nothing he could do? He would do anything to stop her from crying…

She swiped at her eyes and smiled ruefully. "Ben – I'm pregnant."

He felt as though the floor had given way beneath him and he was falling…

Annie flung herself into his arms. "We'll get through this. There's always hope, Ben."

He gripped her as tightly as he could and tried to believe it.

Several months later, Annie had excitedly torn open a manila envelope containing the first pictures from the ultrasound. "They said they would send these over… oh, look, Ben!" She pressed the pictures into his hands. He had, of course, been with her at the ultrasound, but he couldn't help but share her enthusiasm over the pictures. She rubbed her slightly distended belly gently and smiled. "The doctor says it's a good sign that there haven't been any complications yet. Everything may really be alright." She looked so happy. "We should think of names."

Ben thought that she was a little too quick to assume the best, but he stifled his skepticism when he saw her smile. She had a way of making him believe whatever she believed, no matter how hopeless or improbable it was.

"How about Alex, Ben? If it's a boy?"

He was considering this when Annie paled.

"Annie, are you alright?"

She swallowed and tried to nod. "I – " Whatever she would have said was lost in a groan as she doubled over in pain. Panicked, Ben helped her to their room to lie down, and ran for the phone.

The doctor and a nurse arrived shortly thereafter. He looked grim when he saw Annie. "Ben – prepare yourself," he whispered as he ushered him out of the room. Annie had begun to scream. The last time he saw her, her beautiful face was twisted with pain. The door shut in his face and he was alone.



Ben slipped the ultrasound pictures from the envelope and stared numbly at his and Annie's child. Would it have been a boy or a girl? He would have wanted a daughter – a beautiful girl who would have looked just like her mother. His eyes began to burn and he forced back the sobs that threatened to overcome him. In his uncontrolled grip, the pictures crumpled and the glass covering their portrait cracked.

The next day, a small funeral was held for Annie. Ben felt numb and utterly alone. His father was beside him during the service, but that brought him no comfort. His father's presence only evoked unpleasant memories, like it always did.


His father was drunk again. It was Ben's birthday, but once again he received no presents and not even a mention of the occasion. Or so he thought. He was content to avoid his father's attention, but he wasn't lucky on this night. "It's hard to celebrate on the day you killed your mother." He never forgot those hellish words.



Ben shut his eyes. It was not lost on him that Annie had died in much the same way as his mother. He wondered if his father was right. Had he caused the deaths of the ones he loved?

Annie's casket was lowered into the ground, and Ben felt his soul go with it. All at once he realized that he was alone again. This time he knew it would be forever. Someone like Annie did not come across one's path twice in a lifetime.

As the mourners drifted away, some coming to offer their condolences, Ben could barely stand to look at them. They had not loved Annie like he had – none of them knew or cared what he had lost. How could they? A cold rage began to burn in his chest as one by one the Dharma Initiative passed him by.

"So sorry, Ben."

"We loved her too."

"It's a shame."

Their words began to blur together. All he could think of was the fact that Annie was gone... gone… gone…

The funeral was over. His father patted him on the back and walked off, leaving him alone. Ben stared at the yawning grave and wished he could sink into it with her. He hated the Dharma Initiative. He hated their meaningless words of comfort; he hated that they could not save her. He hated them. Only Annie had ever made his life with them tolerable. He wanted to see her again, if only for a moment…

He froze, remembering another grief-stricken moment from many years before. He had run into the jungle looking for his mother… because he had seen her. If he had seen his mother, then perhaps he might see –

Ben stood abruptly and set off for the perimeter. He would look for Annie. And for the man that he had encountered so long ago. The one who had told him to be patient…

Ben soon reached the pylons and stood regarding the jungle grimly. Surely over twenty years of waiting was patience enough. He deactivated the fence and disappeared into the jungle. He didn't look back.


Many years later…

Ben strode down the pier to meet the newly arrived submarine. She was finally here. He smiled to himself, enjoying the afternoon sun, the warm breeze, and the feeling of total triumph that engulfed him. He had, with a little help, done away with the Dharma Initiative and replaced it with a new community led by himself. He had a daughter and he was expecting a new addition to their little family soon. He smiled grimly to himself. He had truly cheated fate. When Jacob had given the order to take the French woman's child all those years ago, he had not at first seen the second chance he had been offered. When the child – a girl – was brought to live among them, he had asked for her name.


"Ben, she's an infant. Someone's got to adopt her, take care of her every moment."

Ben knew that there were plenty of couples who would happily take the girl. He was on the brink of arbitrarily selecting one of them, when he paused, on a whim.

"What is her name?" He asked.

"Her mother called her Alexandra."

Ben felt as though a bin of fireworks had exploded inside his head. Alexandra…Alex. All at once, he saw a future for himself that was less than desolate. He made his decision instantaneously. "I'll take her." The shock around him was palpable. "Are you – "

"Yes, I'm sure," he answered with enough force to ensure that he would not be questioned again. The bundle was quickly surrendered to him. He looked into a pair of dark eyes framed by dark curls. "Hello, Alex."



And now he was approaching the submarine's important passenger. She looked dazed – the sedative would just be wearing off – and apprehensive. He would make her feel right at home. She spotted him and turned to meet him. She was beautiful – long blonde hair, stunning eyes – just like Annie. He had been looking forward to this moment for a long time.

"Hello, Dr. Burke. My name is Benjamin Linus."