Hearts and Minds
Summary: Jack and Sayid continue analyzing Sawyer's letter, which may lead Sawyer to exile. Meanwhile, Boone continuously finds himself in deadly situations as memories of the past haunt him.
Disclaimer: I don't own Lost, I'm just an obsessed fan. Most of this is written based on my own theories, spoilers, and pictures that were put out. I'm going with the ideas I had before some of the newer information was put out. And the idea of the name Andy was pacifically taken from Andy on Cheers, who was an ex-con that tried to kill Diane.
Flashback notes The only flashbacks in this series that aren't different from the show are Locke's, Sun/Jin's, and Hurley's. Also, in some cases characters, such as James in WTCMB really represent characters like Tom in the show, I just didn't know their names at the time. If you haven't cought on, flashbacks are in italics.
Jack finished reading the letter, completely forgetting about what he was doing before.
"This.. this is Sawyer's?" He asked, though he already knew the answer.
Sayid nodded.
Jack could hardly believe it. He knew Sawyer wasn't exactly good, but he hadn't expected anything like this.
"Where'd you find it?"
"By his stuff on the beach," Sayid answered, "it must've fallen out of his pocket."
"Do you know where he is now?" Jack asked.
"I haven't seen him for at least forty-five minutes," said Sayid.
Jack didn't respond.
"What do you want to do about this?" Sayid asked him after Jack didn't respond.
Jack shook his head.
"Maybe we're missing something," Jack said, picking up the letter again.
Sayid looked doubtful, but didn't say anything as Jack began rereading the letter.
Boone was picking through the wreckage that was due to be drug into the cave area tomorrow, in hopes of a last minute find. Actually, he was praying for a last minute find, because he knew he didn't need his bag only for Shannon's medicine.
"What hell are you doing here?" A voice asked behind him.
Shannon. He groaned. She was the last person he wanted to see. When he had graduated for college, he had dreams of never having to talk to his sister again, not chase her around the world and then end up on an island with her until the end of time. But here, in the middle of nowhere, Boone knew he had no choice but to continue to look out for her. He had no one and she had no one. The only person each other had was the one person each couldn't stand. Once again, he was left to pull her out of trouble, risking his life, and then receiving nothing but her smart ass attitude for thanks. Not that that was any different from the way it had always been..
"What the hell are you doing here?" Shannon demanded as she opened the door.
His sister had gotten her own apartment the day she turned nineteen, after spending a year in Paris on a 'school trip'. Or at least that's what she had told their parents. Shannon had never been the one to work hard in school, or even pass for that matter. She had gone to Paris with an unchaperoned art class that had supposingly gone to study museums. That was a laugh.
"You have to hear me out," Boone said desperately, fighting to get inside the small apartment.
"You can't stand to not be able to control my life, can you?" Shannon shot, her eyes glaring.
What a lie. It hadn't been Boone's initial idea to come all the way to Louisiana from California to save Shannon's skin again.
"Trust me, you're going to want to hear this," Boone said, prying the door away from Shannon's fingers.
"You wanna bet?" Shannon said, trying to close the door on his fingertips.
"Will you stop acting like your seven and just listen to me?" He said loudly, interrupting her.
A resident from an apartment four doors that was unlocking his door looked over there way, and then quickly went inside.
"After all that's happened, do you seriously think I would come all the way from California just to drop in?" He asked just as she was closing the door for a final time.
Shannon stopped, considering it.
"Fine," she said, shaking her head, "you have ten minutes."
Boone sighed in relief, and stepped in. The first thing that he noticed was that Shannon had repainted, again. Well, Shannon hadn't, most likely she had some decorating team come in and do the apartment for her. The wall were a light blue, with a slide door that led to a balcony off the fourth floor. A black leather couch set in front of a glass coffee table. A high definition tv and DVD player was in front of that. A short hallway led to a bed room and bathroom, and there was a small kitchen with only a small refrigerator, sink, and microwave. God only knew Shannon never cooked for herself. She shut the door behind him as he walked in.
"I can see you've finally straightened the place up," Boone commented.
"Shut up and tell me what you wanted," Shannon sighed, sitting down, not offering Boone a seat.
"That guy you're seeing, Anthony?"
"Andy," Shannon corrected.
What a name, Boone thought.
"Whatever," Boone said, waving it off, "he's no good."
"What?" Shannon demanded.
"All he wants is your money," Boone said quickly.
"Oh that's bull-"
"All he cares about is getting his money for drugs and pawn," Boone added.
"You're just jealous!" Shannon yelled, jumping up.
"What?" Boone demanded, almost forgetting what he had said before. "Jealous? Of what?"
"Of me!" Shannon yelled. "Of me and what I have and what you don't!"
"You'd think that-"
"You've always been jealous and you know it!" Shannon exclaimed. "It's because of my father that you and your mother have any money at all!"
"You shut up about-"
"And thanks to your mother, they're now divorced-"
It was Boone's turn to interrupt.
"Don't you dare start blaming my mother!" Boone shouted. "It was your father who did nothing but get drunk and spend money!"
Shannon didn't shout back this time. She was to much in shock that Boone would go off like that.
"Get out," Shannon said, going to the door.
Boone recoiled, this wasn't what he needed.
"What?" He said. "No Shannon, look, I'm sorry-"
"Just get out!" Shannon yelled.
Boone made to leave, but stopped before leaving.
"He wants the money," he said seriously, "and he'll do anything to get it."
His eyes met Shannon, trying to tell her how serious he was. Shannon just looked at him like he was unbelievable, and he left. She just shut the door behind him.
Boone shook himself out of his thoughts, finding Shannon standing, hands on hips, staring at him.
"Looking for something," Boone said, continuing his search.
"What?" Shannon asked. "Hoping someone left a nice slab of chocolate in their bag?"
"Why do you have to be like that?" He asked her, looking up.
"Be like what?"
"You know."
"No," she said, eyes following him, "I really don't."
"Come into reality Shannon!" Boone said, throwing the empty bag he was holding down. "We're stranded on some island God knows where, and all you can do is lay on the ground and get a bad tan."
"And what are you doing to help?" Shannon shot back.
"More than you."
It was all Boone could do to not blurt out everything about the hatch. Hell, hardly anyone even knew a hatch exsited. He hadn't realized until now that digging up the hatch would be a task that he couldn't brag about. To the rest of the island, he was still the young one who could chip in when he was needed to- and he did- but he really had nothing to offer. Little did they know..
Suddenly there was a roar, and both of their heads turned at the cry.
"What was that?" Shannon asked to no one in horror.
There was some rustling in the bushes, and Boone felt his heart beat slightly more rapidly in his chest.
"Shannon," Boone whispered, "come here."
Shannon shook her head. No way was she going to risk making a noise. But the rustling got closer.
"Shannon!" Boone hissed.
The rustling got closer. Nerves got over Shannon, and she took off back towards the beach camp.
"Shannon!" Boone yelled.
But Shannon kept running. Boone had no choice but to follow her. He had never realized how fast Shannon could run until he saw her run for the beach. He heard the rustling grow nearer, and looked to where Shannon had run. But she was no where in site.
"Shannon?" He asked slowly.
He hadn't even seen her switch paths. Boone didn't move until something caught his eye in front of him. But it wasn't Shannon. He stepped closer to the figure that he knew was a person but couldn't tell who it was. He closed his eyes, thinking he may have imagined it, but when he opened the person was still there, sixteen feet in front of him. Stepping closer, Boone got a better look and stopped when he saw who it was: a little girl with blonde hair, streaked and covered with blood. And that was the last thing he remembered.