Lost and its characters belong to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot and crew. Written in response to the lj user"losthohoho" challenge for lj user"paradigmse7en"

Lost – In Another Life
By Mystic
December 11th 2005
Sayid knew what he was going to say. He'd been playing the words over and over in his head for hours. But standing in front of the smallish house with the bright bushy wildflowers and the homely welcome matt, his brain blanked. How would Nadia feel seeing him again? She hadn't made an attempt to contact him, not even after their rescue was made public.

He expected she'd find him. The way he'd found her. He expected a lot of things once they'd returned. He got out of the rental car and made his way up the driveway, passing the grey SUV and the dirt colored stepping stones laid out along the grass at the side of the pavement. Sayid felt his heart give a jump, thinking maybe it wasn't a good idea. She hadn't seen him in so many years. And he'd changed.

Not so much on the outside, but the man he used to be had hardened during his time on the island. He'd grown colder, harder, bitter. Sayid knocked, loudly, and took a step away from the cherry wood door. He held his breath a moment and trained his ears, listening for footsteps inside. They were coming, quickly, much quicker than he'd anticipated and he felt his heart drumming in his chest as the golden knob turned and she opened the door.

His eyes softened when he saw her. Pale, thin, barely four feet tall and staring up at him with wide blue eyes. Her knobby knees were exposed and her right foot was pointed inward slightly, holding onto the door protectively. She smiled, bright teeth gleaming at him and her eyes disappearing.

"We've been waiting for you," she spoke in soft deep voice. Not what he'd expected from a child. He watched her tuck a long piece of blonde hair behind her ear. "Saw you on the tv and mom said you'd come by." She stood back and Sayid glanced into the house, seeing the off white tiles and the beige furniture. He nodded his head, his dark curls tickling the sides of his face and he walked past her, into the house.

The girl closed the door and walked around him, standing in front of him, holding him in place. Her presence was strong and confident and she reminded him of everything he'd lost on the island. "You are, Nadia's daughter?"

She nodded once and her grin returned. "I'll go get her for you."

Sayid waited in that space between the doorway and the living room, feeling like an invader. His mind retraced the words he'd memorized, but he found himself remembering her instead. The way she laughed at him, raised her eyes at him, kicked sand at his feet when they walked along the beach.

His vision blurred and when Nadia came into the room, he felt a tear beginning to brim on his left eye. Nadia smiled, she thought the tear was for her. He didn't know how to tell her otherwise, so he opened his arms, waiting as she rushed towards him and enveloped him in a hug. Like they did when they were children.

Sayid used to dream of their children. Olive skin and chocolate eyes and beautiful straight hair. Of course they'd have their mother's hair. He used to dream they'd have a boy and he'd grow to be strong and make them proud. They'd raise him in America where there was no fighting, no one coming in the middle of the night to kidnap you, no bombs going off in the town square as you picked up your milk and eggs.

Now he thought of Nadia and he saw nothing. Nothing except the truth. They would never have children because she'd moved on. Sayid didn't blame her. He'd been gone too long to keep hoping. "I thought you were dead," she whispered in his ear.

"I was dead," he told her. "Waiting to be rescued, thinking it would never happen."

She placed her hands on his shoulders, pointed and hard and she pushed away. Not like Shannon. Shannon had a delicate touch, even when she was angry. Sayid knew it not in her body language, but in her air. In the energy around her. Nadia's body was rigid and her eyes avoided him as she took a step away, towards the couch behind her. "I exiled to America; a man took me in."

"And you loved him," he said knowingly. He wondered how differently it all would have been if the plane had arrived. Instead of leaving him marooned on the island.

Nadia shook her head. "I needed a reason to stay in the country. Marriage keeps you here."

"You had a daughter to keep yourself safe?" Sayid glanced down the hallways, his voice a harsh whisper.

"I did what I had to do," Nadia hissed back, her eyes dark and her teeth clenched. "And he treats me good, like a man should."

Sayid nodded slowly. It pained him that the words didn't hurt as they would have just a few short years ago. He took a step back towards the door, watching her eyes soften slightly and he felt for the doorknob behind him. "I should not have intruded on your new life then."

Shaking her head, Nadia reached out a hand, her fingers stroking the air. "Sayid, I'm sorry."

He smiled, but his heart wasn't in it. "Goodbye, Nadia."

"Come to her birthday." Nadia was trying to grin now. She was trying to hold onto him because she still loved him, but Sayid couldn't find that part of himself anymore. "This weekend. She'll be five."

"Five," he repeated. "When is her birthday?" His eyes grew curious, finding their way down the hall to the head of blonde hair that peeked out at him.

"Friday," Nadia told him, her head tilting slightly, seeing something in his eyes that gave her hope.

Sayid nodded, staring at the ground. Five years ago he'd held the woman he loved in his arms as she tried to speak, her eyes panicked and her hands gripping his shoulders, as her life slipped away from her. Exactly five years ago he'd watched her body grow cold on the muddy ground while tied to a tree, his heart deflated in his chest. He nodded at Nadia. "I'll be here."

He turned away from her and pulled open the heavy door, his feet like lead as they made their way across the pavement. "Hey," he heard her voice, solid and clear. He turned just slightly, seeing her in the window, a sly grin across her face as she cocked her head at him. "She still loves you, you know." The words were filled with a knowing confidence that made him smile for the first time in years because he knew, without any shadow of a doubt, that the girl wasn't speaking about Nadia.

Finis