1: GOING 'HOME'

As Jack stared out of the aeroplane window, he still couldn't believe that he was finally going home. Back to civilisation. No more playing leader, hunting, tracking or tending the same faces every day that he had become so accustomed to.

"What is home?" he asked himself. What did he have to go back to? He thought about his time at 'home' and his time on the island, and came to a discovery that was possibly too late. He was happier on the island. Maybe it was because he was finally away from his father, maybe it was because he felt needed, and people had depended on him. People had depended on him before; he was a doctor. But somehow on the island it was different. He was seen as a friend, as well as a doctor. People trusted him in more ways than just because he was a doctor. He sighed, and turned to the brunette sitting beside him, who couldn't look more nervous if she tried. He gave her a strained smile, and the one she gave back was very small and timid.

"Nervous, Kate?" he asked her jokingly. She turned to him and didn't even attempt to fake happiness. Her eyes looked so terrified as if she was about to burst into tears any moment.

"Jack, you're the only one who knows about me." Her grip tightened around the armrest of the chair. She started to shift uncomfortably in her seat, and turned to the blonde man on the other side of her.

"Sawyer's asleep." Jack whispered reassuringly. Kate turned back to Jack, her face looking paler than Jack had ever seen it before. Even paler than the dreaded day when the plane had crashed. When she spoke, her voice was shaking as she tried to withhold her sobs.

"When we get back…they're going to arrest me, Jack. I know it." At this, she gave in and began sobbing uncontrollably. Jack put his hand on her shoulder in an effort to comfort her, but, as always, he was not the best in these situations.

The noise of Kate's crying must have awoken Sawyer, as Jack noticed him staring at Kate groggily.

"Hey Freckles, what's with the waterworks?" Kate jumped slightly at the sound of his voice and her sobs ceased. She stared at him for a moment, then mumbled,

"It doesn't matter." Sawyer made a humoured expression.

"You gotta speak up darling. I'm not the BFG!"

"It's nothing. I'm fine." Sawyer was obviously not satisfied with this answer, thus saying,

"Well, sweetheart, I know I ain't one for people skills but there's obviously something yanking your chain!"

"Leave it, Sawyer." Jack looked at the other man intently.

"Well, doc, aren't you-"

"Just, leave it, Sawyer." Jack repeated. Jack looked at Kate, and she was shaking more vigorously than jelly in an earthquake. Jack gently squeezed her hand to let her know that he was there for her. Sawyer snuggled back down into his chair, giving Jack and Kate and indignant look as he did so. Kate seemed unwilling to communicate, and stared at the back of the chair in front of her, as if in a daze. Jack sighed once again, and shifted his attention back to gazing out the window.

To the far left of Jack, Kate and Sawyer, Shannon Rutherford was seemingly talking to herself with a confused voice.

"Mrs. Carlyle, Boone was…No, that won't work…Sabrina, I am most sorry to say…No; definitely not…Boone is…"

"Having trouble?" Shannon swerved her head round to see Sayid, the man she had come to know so well since the crash. His cheeky grin almost made her forget what she had been contemplating so hard, but not quite. He took a seat beside her and looked at her kindly.

"Why is this so hard?" Shannon whined.

"Maybe because there is no good way to tell someone their son is dead." Sayid offered, unhelpfully. Shannon looked at him in dismay.

"I can't find the right words. Every time I think of a possible way of telling her, I see Boone's face, and…and…"

"I know." Sayid rested his hand on hers, like Jack had done for Kate.

Shannon stared out the window. She always had to have a window seat, ever since she was old enough to fly. Boone had known that, and always let her sit by the window without ever complaining. She had always known that she would have to tell Boone's mother, her step-mother, but whenever she thought about it, she saw Boone's lifeless body in front of her, and all other thoughts were dashed out of her mind.

Sayid watched Shannon, and began to think himself.

"Is Nadia alive? Will I see her again?" Sayid began to get lost in thought about seeing the woman who he had loved so dearly again. He had thought about her countless times, yet after the day he had enlisted Shannon's help with the French woman's documents, his attention had turned elsewhere. He had believed that he was betraying Nadia's memory by even having these thoughts about another woman, but eventually Shannon helped him get closure. Sayid began to think about Danielle, the French woman.

"Why did she refuse to come with us? She could finally have been free!" Danielle had decided to stay on the island, even though she had been trying to escape from it for sixteen years.

"Maybe actually going back would cause her more trouble than good. Shannon was right, she seemed past sanity."

Sayid pondered these thoughts as the blonde beside him was frowning in concentration, obviously still thinking about what to say to Boone's mother. A silence stuck between the two, but as they were so lost in their own thoughts, they didn't notice the lack of conversation. However, even if they had noticed, they probably wouldn't have broken it, as silence is one of the great beauties of the world.

A few rows ahead of the pair, a frantic Claire was trying to calm down her wailing infant. A few shouts and complaints were heard from nearby passengers. Charlie, who had become quite close with Claire over the duration of being on the island, kneeled on top of his chair and shouted,

"Shut your bloody traps!"

"Please sit down sir!" the air hostess squawked, panicking. Charlie reluctantly slumped back down into his seat, grumbling to himself. Claire watched her friend's behaviour, and couldn't help but giggle slightly. However, as always, little Aaron made his presence known by emitting the most unholy shriek ever to grace Claire's ears.

"Dude, no offence, but please shut that thing up!" Hurley exclaimed, turning up the volume on his walkman. Claire glanced reproachfully at him, and turned back to cooing at Aaron. She suddenly had an idea, and began singing softly.

"Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket never let it fade away." This song had always calmed her down when she was a baby.

"Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, you'll never see a rainy day."

As Claire sang, Charlie stared at her, and began to think of his band, Driveshaft.

"I wonder how they're doing without me." He gazed out of the window, as many others had done before him, and remembered his and Liam's (his brother) last conversation. He thought about his niece, Megan, probably for the first time in his life.

"What is she interested in? Does she know who I am? What does she look like?" Charlie sat and pondered these thoughts. Since he had met Claire, and Aaron had been born, Charlie had become a lot more responsible and caring than he had been before. He felt a lot happier, calmer, and at peace now. He no longer had cravings for heroin either. He was suddenly brought back to earth when Claire whispered his name and gently touched his arm, as if trying to wake him up. Her touch, her voice, everything about her gave Charlie such a wonderful sensation that was better than any drug. They smiled, and when she spoke, Charlie noticed that there was a blessed quiet stillness, as Aaron was fast asleep.

"Hey." Charlie mumbled. "You nervous at all?"

"No, just thinking about how I'm gonna give that psychic of mine hell when I get back!" Charlie chuckled slightly.

At that moment, the air hostess appeared at their row.

"Anything to order?" Charlie turned to Claire and grinned mischievously.

"Your finest jar of peanut butter, Miss." The air hostess gave him a very puzzled look, and turned to Claire.

"And you?"

"Just a pot of baby food, please." The hostess nodded. Claire tapped Hurley on the shoulder. He turned to her questioningly, and Claire pointed to the hostess. Hurley licked his lips, and mumbled with delight.

"Real food. Right!" He raised his voice and began talking very fast. "Double bacon sandwich, French fries, extra tall coke, cheeseburger…" Charlie and Claire smiled at each other and began a conversation about everything they're going to get to see again. After a while, they contented themselves with silence, fascinated by the picture they had painted for themselves.

John Locke was searching his memory for something to return for. However long he thought for, however hard, he couldn't find any reason. Eventually, he gave up, and thought back on his time on the island. As Shannon passed him, supposedly going to the bathroom, he remembered someone who should have been here. Someone who had tried so hard and waited so patiently for this day to come.

"And it's my fault he's not here." John once again found himself staring at his shoes. This island had saved him, but killed the one most loyal to him, the only other one who knew the secret of the island that he did. Now neither of them would ever know what was in that hatch. This thought saddened him, but not as much as the thought of Boone. He saw Boone die. He did nothing. It is his entire fault Boone died. Jack did so much to try and save him, while John did nothing. Now Boone would never see this day, and Shannon had to face their family after this whole ordeal. John actually felt sorry for her, for the first time.

"That hatch…" The curiosity was too much for him. He had to get away, back to the hatch. He had to do anything he could. He rose out of his seat towards the cockpit, when he heard a small voice behind him.

"Mr. Locke." It murmured. It was little Walt. He had always looked up to John, wanted to learn. He had such potential, would be such a great hunter with the right training. Walt's face was so hopeful, so full of awe; John smiled at the young boy.

"What can I do for you, son?"

"I was wondering if you would like to sit with us. You seemed kind of lonely." John looked to Walt's father, Michael, who had never approved of Walt spending time with him. He believed John was dangerous and a bad influence, yet Michael nodded and went back to reading his newspaper.

"Catching up on current events?" John enquired. Michael glanced up and mumbled,

"Yeah." He was obviously trying to keep their conversation to a minimum. Michael still didn't approve of John.

"Never mind." John thought. Walt smiled at him and his father. "I'm going to miss him. He's a great lad."

Walt began babbling about how he was going to join defence and army courses, and how he wanted to be like John.

"I can do this, can't I dad?" Walt looked at Michael hopefully. Michael smiled unconvincingly.

"Of course you can." Walt seemed triumphant.

"Just humour him until we get back to the airport. Then we never have to see Locke again." Michael thought. John Locke was definitely not who Michael wanted as a friend for his son. He wondered about the future for him and Walt in Los Angeles, (and Walt's golden Labrador, Vincent, of course) and grinned, as he was delighted with the mental image. It would be perfect. Life was on the up, and would be for a long time to come.

Near the back, a Korean couple awaited arrival at the airport in silence. Sun looked at her husband, and remembered the last time she was at this airport. She had prepared for so long, even learnt English ready for when she escaped. She had been so afraid of Jin; she was desperate to run away. However, after the simple gesture of giving her a flower, she couldn't do it. She loved him. This was all she knew.

Jin turned to his wife. He knew she had wanted to leave, and was delighted that she had decided to stay with him. The island had been a blessing; they were now closer than ever before, their marriage had been saved. When he found out his wife could speak English, it had come as a huge shock to him. Nevertheless, he has come to terms with it, and the couple have developed their love and trust for each other. Now they had no secrets. He hoped.

Sun was very proud of her husband. Before the rescue plane had arrived, Jin had told her everything that had really happened with her father, and why he often came home covered in blood. Sun smiled to herself. Now they had no secrets. She hoped.

She turned to her husband, and saw he was fidgeting with a napkin from a sandwich they had shared twenty minutes earlier. She looked at him questioningly, yet he only returned the look with a simple grin. No malice, no sadness, only happiness could be seen in his eyes. His heart was finally at peace. Sun believed their life together was going to be exactly what she had dreamt of after all. Jin turned to her and held his hands behind his back.

"Choose one." He said playfully in Korean. She laughed and pointed to his left hand. It was empty, but he swooped up her right hand and kissed it tenderly. She laughed again, and then he revealed what remained in his other hand. An origami dove, just like the ones he used to make her when they were dating. She let a single tear slip from her eye.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too." She kissed him on the cheek, rested her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes to fall into a blissful sleep.

Rose was sleeping against the window pane. She had a smile upon her lips. As God had promised, she had been told that her husband Bernard was alive and well, and waiting eagerly for her at the airport. Lance was resting next to her. It had taken a lot of effort to get him onto the plane after what had happened last time.

They awoke as pilot spoke through the microphone, telling them that they had arrived. Cheers and gulps followed.