Little Lost Angel

Here is a new story for you. It's been bouncing around in my head for quite some time and I just finally got around to typing it out. The ideas are still a little jumbled in there so this first chapter is a little off. Hopefully the quality will improve with time. Haha.

Disclaimer: I do not own Lost or Dark Angel.

This is a Lost/Dark Angel crossover. The idea kind of attacked me so hopefully it works out. :P

Chapter 1

I hugged my knees to my chest and leaned back against the airline pillow. I don't sleep, but the pillow added a little comfort to the long flight back to New York from Australia. I glanced at the man to my right. He took a long drink from a small bottle of hard liquor and I laughed under my breath. He looked at me and smirked, "It's been a hard week."

"You don't have to tell me that," I laughed again, uncomfortably.

He arched an eyebrow, "My father died."

"I'm sorry." I certainly wasn't going to tell him that it had been a hard week for me because I had been on the run from the Australian police for a crime I didn't commit or that even being on this plane was risking being found by Lydecker; the man that had created me and kept my siblings and me locked away, secretly training us as an ultimate government weapon for years, until we escaped. No that would probably make a poor first impression. He was still asking about my week when I zoned back into the conversation. I shrugged and said, "Nothing much."

He shook his head and looked out the window. A bit of turbulence sent me jittering to get my seatbelt on. I noticed my hands shaking but that was nothing that couldn't wait. Unfortunately, they made it very hard to work a seatbelt. The man reached over and clipped the seatbelt together for me.

"Thanks."

"My name's Jack. Uneasy flier?"

I nodded and closed my eyes. More turbulence shook the plane and I subconsciously reached out to him. He took my hand and that was the last thing I remember before I woke up with sand in my mouth. I coughed and looked at the wreckage around me. People were hurt and danger was everywhere. I knew I needed to get out. I saw Jack trying desperately to get a man from under a heavy piece of metal. I pushed myself up and ran towards them. Sand flew behind me as I stumbled through the wreckage. I grabbed the metal and lifted with all my might, which was a lot more than any other human. The metal flew into the distance and Jack stared at me.

"Get him out of here." I yelled over the whirling of the plane. I pushed my hair out of my face and spun around. I saw a woman lying on the ground breathing ragged, she was pregnant.

"Help me!" she screamed, spinning around. I looked around for someone who could help her while I got other people from the rubble. There were people in far worse shape. A rather large man ran up to me.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"Get her away from the fumes." I told him pointing and moving away from them at the same time. There was smoke in the air and heat radiated from the world around us. Regardless, I continued to pull people from the rubble. Every person I got out I carried far enough away that they were safe. I thanked god for the chaos around me. Without it I would not have had the opportunity to help.

Without warning a disoriented man was pulled into the engine and it exploded. The sudden noise sent me flying forward of my own accord but I was very close to the explosion and it propelled me forward much farther. I knew I would be dead if I didn't get out of range but somehow I managed. Flipping head over heels through the air, I landed and skidded on my side against the ground. I pressed my hand to my side and winced. I stumbled over to where Jack was helping the pregnant girl. Everyone seemed to be in utter shock, unable to control their wandering senses. They had to survive but instead they panicked. Jack on the other hand was bleeding profusely from a wound under his shirt. He barely seemed to acknowledge it as he moved from person to person. I grabbed his shoulder, "You need help too. Come on. They'll be fine."

I led him off and grabbed a sewing kit. It was extraordinary how many people carried them with them on travel. I couldn't imagine why.

"Take off your shirt."

"Don't I get to know your name first?"

"Elle. Now take off your shirt."

He obliged, "My name's Jack."

The cut was a bit worse than I'd first thought.

"You still have that liquor on you?" I asked. He fished in his pocket and tossed it to me. I poured it on his wound and on my bloodied hands.

"You seem to know what you're doing." he commented.

I nodded, "I've stitched up myself a few times."

He turned and looked at me, questioningly, as I took out the thread and pin. "It's none of your business." I snapped.

"Sorry," he mumbled and turned away again.

I finished the job quickly and rinsed the wound once more with the alcohol. It mixed with his blood and ran down his back. I wiped it away with my sleeve.

"Thanks." he said, I nodded.

We headed back to the beach and saw the others making a signal fire. They seemed to have their senses about them again, carrying wood and working together towards a common goal. It amazed me how humans could find of sense of community in tragedy. We helped a while then I claimed I had to go to the bathroom. I stood up from the fire and began to walk towards the woods. I stumbled slightly with a tremor and leaned against a tree.

TBC

Especially if there is another snow day tomorrow. Haha. :)

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