Flying was something Daniel never wanted to do again. After the Oceanic crash, and after the amount of jet lag he was going to suffer from this flight, he never wanted to do it again.

He was off the Island – had been off for at least two days now. He'd gotten back home to Boston, but the cryptic message on his answering machine from his mother telling him to fly to LA straightaway had forced him onto another flight, and hopefully his last. Hell, he'd ride a bus back to Boston if he had to just to avoid flying.

It was dark by the time he left the Los Angeles airport, a warm breeze blowing and ruffling his clothes and hair. It awakened him slightly, because the air was tinged with a bit of sea salt, a smell he never wanted to inhale again. He'd gotten enough of that back on that blasted Island. Sighing, he managed to signal a cab.

"Where to buddy?"

"Um…" He paused, fumbling in his pants pocket for the address that had been left in the message from his mother. He thrust the piece of paper at the driver, who took his time reading Daniel's illegible scrawl before pulling away from the curb. He rode in silence; his head resting against the cool windowpane, watching the blurred lights of the city zoom by.

By the time they reached the address, it had started raining. Daniel stepped out, not bothering to cover himself from the rain as he looked around, confused. A church? His mother was at a church? Turning and paying the cab driver, he walked toward the entrance normally, as if it weren't pouring down rain.

"Daniel! About time you got here. I was beginning to think the plane had crashed or something." Eloise Hawking told her son the moment he stepped in, soaking wet and shivering slightly from the cold rain. He walked forward toward her, up the aisle of the church and dripping wet.

"Not funny mom." He muttered at her quip about the plane crashing. She gave him a small smile.

"Only joking dear. Come on – I've something to show you." She said, and without another word, ushered him through a door on the left, and down a set of spiral stairs. Through a metal door, and they were standing in a large open room with a pendulum swinging back and forth across a map laid out on the floor.

"What is this?" He asked, crossing the map on the floor to the chalkboard, as she went to the computer, typing something in.

"The only off Island Dharma station – called the lamppost." She told him as he inspected the equations on the board. Tapping a finger against it, he frowned and turned toward her.

"These are my equations."

"I know. I wouldn't use anyone else's." She said, taking him by the shoulders and steering him in through another door. "Lets get you dried off, and then you can come back out and help me, all right? We've got to find another window soon, so they can get back."

'So who -?" He began, but she cut him off.

"Later Daniel, later." She said. "There are some of your old clothes in that closet over there, and use these towels to dry off." She said, handing him two white towels that she had produced from a small closet beside the main door. "Come out when you're done changing."

And with that, she closed the door.

Shaking, he undressed and dried off, changing into the other clothes. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want anything to do with that Island, because it's where she had died. It was the Island's fault she wasn't standing here with him, safe and sound. It was his fault too – he'd promised to save her, but he hadn't. He'd let her die. And he couldn't do anything to change it.

He left the small office or room or whatever it was and back out into the chamber with the map and swinging pendulum. His mother was at the chalkboard now, writing down some equation or another that was probably his too. They were old equations, ones he had come up with a long time ago, but apparently they still worked for finding the island.

"What am I, uh, doing here? What do you need me for?"

"These equations are yours, Daniel. So I need you to help me find just a few more that could be the key to finding another window. Do you still have that journal I gave you?" She asked.

"No." He sighed. He'd left it back on the Island, back in his backpack, which had probably been torn apart by polar bears or something just as strange.

"No matter then. You do remember them don't you?"

"Uh…" He gaped. Of course he didn't. That was the whole point of writing things in his journal. Eloise sighed, shaking her head. She grabbed the notepad laying near the computer and the pen, holding them out to him.

"See if you can remember at least parts. I might be able to get the rest." She set him to work, pushing him down into the chair in the corner. He felt like a child, forced to put away his toys and go to his room because he had been caught trying to see if the force of gravity affected the way it flew through the window.

Daniel began to scribble down numbers and variables, trying to remember. He scribbled some out, added others, even ripping the page out of the notebook and starting anew.

He didn't look up when the metal door screeched against the wall, someone either entering or leaving the station – he figured it was just his mother.

"Here are the files you wanted and the list of flights going anywhere near the windows opening soon. You'll have to find the exact one so I can pinpoint the right flight."

His head snapped up so quickly that it nearly flew right off his shoulders. That voice had caught his attention. Her back was toward him, but he knew it was her. The voice, not to mention the mane of red hair that had been pulled back into a ponytail. She was dressed different than he had last seen her, but it was her. His Charlotte.

"Charlotte?"

She turned, the corners of her lips quirked up into a small smile. She didn't have blood running down her nose, which in turn made him smile. She was alive.

"Hey Dan. Surprised?"

"Um, a little." He said, getting to his feet, forgetting all about the equations as he walked across the map toward her. His mother was looking through the papers Charlotte had brought him, so he took the opportunity to pull her into a hug. Charlotte laughed, a sound he never thought he would hear again.

"I told you I'd always be there to help you and clean up your messes, Daniel." His mother said airily from somewhere across the room, her fingers flying across the keys of the computer as she typed in something else on the computer.

"Just remember." Eloise continued after a moment, as Daniel took Charlotte's hand, turning to face his mother. "The Island is never done with you."