Hi! This is my first Lost fanfic. I hope you enjoy. See it as Chapter 1, if you like, and I'll write more depending on
your reactions and reviews. This takes place in Season 2, between Fire + Water and The Long Con.

It tells the story of Ben Cooper, who has been washed up on the island after his boat is caught in a
storm. The paragraph in italics is his flashback.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

Here Because of You

He opened his blue eyes. All he saw above him was the swirling abyss of the clouds above; still blackened by the storm that knocked him out a few minutes...or hours ago. He didn't really know. He fumbled up, his hair dripping wet, with the salty water dripping down onto his lips and into his mouth, the saltyness causing his tongue to retreat in disgust. He was lying on his boat all this time. Just floating in the sea. As he looked around he saw the boat wasn't moving. It was lodged between two rocks and was sinking slightly, as some water was beginning to seep onto the deck. He saw that land wasn't far away. An island... He thought. Seeing that his time was running out, he dived into the sea and swam to the piece of land that was waiting for him ahead. It wasn't that far. He could make it. Although, as he swam the current was battling against him. It got stronger, the waves pulling him under, the land floating away from him. The water gushed into his mouth and he saw himself slowly sinking beneath the water. Darkness prevailed once more.

He opened his eyes again. He coughed up that salty water, his chest forcibly beating it out of him as he leant over and gagged on the beach. He looked around him and saw a crowd of people circling him.

"Where am I?" he croaked, his voice still frail after the ordeal.
"You're..." the handsome man looked around to the others as if to ask how to answer that question, "...on an island. My name's Jack. Let me take you to get some rest, obviously you haven't eaten for a while, and-"
"I don't need rest." he rudely interrupted. "I need to know who these people are. Where I am. My boat...I was sailing and it just...it just got lost in this freak, random storm...and..." he looked up at these people, listening to his every word as if he was an alien, "...and I need to go home."
He got up and pushed past the people, and looked around desperately.
"Where's my boat? What have you done with my boat?" he shouted, now standing opposite the crowd with Jack standing in front of them, "Why are you here?"
"Because we're lost." Jack replied.

"Lost?" he asked, now on the beach letting Jack put bandages on his wounds while eating a banana, "But how?" he asked with his mouth full.
"Oceanic 815." Jack told him. "Flight 815. We were all on it. Our plane went a thousand miles off course. The tail section crashed at the other side of the island, the majority of us here were at the front of the plane."
He looked at Jack expecting more.
"You're joking?"
"No." Jack said bluntly.
"So you're telling me that, I'd say, 40-odd people survived a plane crash?" he asked cynically.
"I don't lie. I don't have time to lie. We've been here for two months. Strange things have been happening-"
"Ow!" he interrupted as Jack put the needle into his flesh.
"Sorry." Jack finished up sewing up the wound and put the needle back in his kit. "You better get some rest. I've gotta go check on something." He got up, and put on his backpack and starting making his way into the jungle.
"What strange things?" he called back. Jack turned around.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." he continued walking ahead.
"My name's Ben. Ben Cooper." he told him, now seeing Jack as his only friend as others looked at him as if he was bad news.
"Nice to meet you, Ben." Jack smiled. He turned and made his way into the jungle.

Ben had to use a raggy bit of cloth no one wanted for bedding and had to light his own fire. He had been alone all day - no one had talked to him other than Jack. He was alone with his thoughts, and gazed up to the stars glistening there beautifully, sitting unaware of the many problems in his mind. They soothed him somehow. He glanced to the rest of the camp - other fires glistening like the stars at different points, people sitting there in couples laughing and joking, cuddling and playing games, while others preferred to sit alone. He couldn't understand why these people were so calm. They had been away from their homes for two months, their loved ones and familes assumed them dead. They had no chance of getting home. Yet there they were, sitting together and talking like they had no problems in the world. He felt the heat leave his face and saw his fire was slowly dying, the darkness consuming him making him invisible like he felt. He began blowing frantically and started looking around for any spare bits of wood and stone.
"No! No! No! Dammit!" he cursed as he blew at the dying fire, desperately trying to revive it like Jack done to him today, "Not now! Come on!"
"Here." a woman's voice said from above.
He looked up. He saw a woman of Mexican-American origin, wearing a black vest and holding some wood in her arm. Her face stood out from the black starry background behind her. She was holding a few bits of wood and offered some to Ben.
"Thanks..." he said gently, taking the wood off her and adding it to the fire, bringing it back to life.
"I know what it's like." she said flatly and bluntly, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.
"Know what what's like?" he ventured.
"To be new. People don't trust you round here. Because they think you're one of Them. Or have an agenda." she said, as she sat down beside him.
"One of Them?" he asked, feeling stupid as he asked it.
"The Others. These...people. Out there. In the jungle. They live there. And take people. And corrupt them."
"Right..." he replied, now realising he's sounding patronising by not believing what she says.
"My name's Ana. Ana-Lucia." ignoring him and putting out her hand.
"I'm Ben. Ben Cooper." he said as he shook her hand.
"Cooper, huh?" she asked as she eat a bit of mango. She split it in half, "You want some?"
"Thanks..." he smiled as he accepted.
"So what'd you do in the real world?" she asked.
"I was a journalist."
"Journalist, huh?" she repeated. "Any top scoops you can tell me about since I've been away?" she asked nosily and jokingly.
"Not really." he laughed, sounding uncertain. "Same old crap. Some celeb picks their nose and it's a top story."
"I like your accent. Where you from?" she continued her interrogation.
"A place called Edinburgh. It's in Scotland."
"Oh wow. I've always wanted to go there. Beautiful place." she told him as she looked at the sea still raging at night.

Ben cracked half a smile as if to agree with her.

He rushed down would could have been countless corridors. They were so clean. He could hear the sounds of the hospital all around him. The square lights on the ceiling shifted by as he ran from corridor to corridor like a lost boy in a maze. He came up to a reception, and approached an unbothered receptionist drinking tea.
"Samuel. Samuel Cooper. Is he here? I'm his son." he said frantically and out of breath. He looked up at the clock and saw it was 2am. The nurse picked up the phone unbothered after she input the name on the computer.
"Hello Ward 2. This is Reception. We're looking for a Samuel Cooper. Samuel...yes. S-A-M...yes...U-E-L. And then Cooper." she said and then waited, taking another drink of her tea. Ben grunted in protest. She took no notice.
"Yes hello..." she said in a broad Scottish accent, "Samuel's son is here." she moved the mouthpiece away and looked at him.
"What?" he asked.
"Your name, dear."
"Ben."
She moved the mouthpiece back slowly as if it was in rebellion to his offish attitude.
"His son's name is Ben." she looked at him. "Yes. Your father is there. You can go through." she told him.
He didn't bother thanking her. He looked at the signs pointing to Ward 2 and made his way up endless stairs and walking briskly through countless corridors as people slept all around him. He finally made his way into Ward 2 and was intercepted by a young male nurse.
"Oright mate." he said deeply. "Name?"
"Ben." he said impatiently.
"Of course, Ben. I'll lead ye to yer da'."
He lead him through the ward. Ben looked at his sides where other people were sleeping, or still lying away to sick to even sleep. The nurse stopped and he knew this was it.
"He's in there, pal." he said and walked off.
It was so quiet now. All Ben had to do was walk round the corner into the room and his dad would be there. His throat went dry with dread. His professional, adult mind was numbed. He was a kid again.
He walked round and entered the room. His dad was at the far-side of the room by the window, the city lights of Edinburgh shimmering behind him. He saw his dad was connected to tubes and things he didn't understand. His face was like stone; set and lifeless. He opened his yellowish eyes, and looked at his son making no movement.
"What are you doing here?" he grumbled loudly despite the fact it was 2am.
"Why do you think I'm here?" Ben said quietly, pulling himself a seat under the dim light of the ward after-hours.
"Leave. I don't want you here." he said, the smell of alcohol fuming from his breath.
"You think I want to be here?" Ben snapped, now getting angry but keeping it quiet.
"Then why are you here?"
Ben was silent. He could tell his father was still drunk. He looked old, aged and tired. He was only in his late 50s. His throat swelled and emotion gripped him as he considered the question he was about to ask.
"Why did you try and commit suicide, dad?"
His father looked at him through his tired, depressed eyes.
"You ask me why, son..."
"All the stuff you put us through..."
"To protect you. From me. I will never forgive you...never...for what you did to me...I will never forgive you..." he said, his voice strained with emotion and his eyes reddening with sadness at this moment of weakness.
"Are you saying you're here because of me...?" he said, consumed with fear and guilt.
"I'm saying nothing anymore..." he said, and turned his head away.

Ben got up and stormed away from his father, bumping the nurse out of the way, fuelled by rage and indescribable sadness.

It was a new day on the island. Hurley was doing his washing and saw that Charlie was sitting looking at the beach with his hoodie over his head. He walked over.
"Charlie?" he asked and got no response. "Listen dude...you kinda...stole Claire's baby and all-"
"I didn't bloody steal Aaron for the last time Hurley." he snapped.
"Would you listen to what I'm trying to say?" Hurley pleaded. Charlie looked up and took off his hood. "I'm tryin' to say...that...I believe you, man. I know you're not the kinda guy to just steal babies and put them in danger...especially Aaron."
Hurley expected Charlie to thank him. But he merely put his hood back on and remained silent in a dark way. Hurley looked at him, with nothing else to say. Then he sees Ben returning from the jungle looking tired and haggard.
"Anyway...people got someone else to talk about for the time being. Looks like he's the only one not to have a reason to hate you right now, dude..." Hurley said angrily and walked off.

Charlie stayed silent. And looked over to Ben.
"He will have soon..." he said under his breath.

That's it! C+C welcomed!
mcgreevers