He brushed his fingers against her golden hair; the hair of angels. It felt as soft as it always had, reminding him of better times. It was strange how he found something so blissful amongst the rough grain of his reshaped life. He watched over her as she slept, journal in her hand. Smiling gently, he recalled what the journal had meant to him; a key to her mind when she shut herself in. He remembered the night he read it and learned of her feelings for him; she was his favourite author. The pages were more torn than they were that fateful night nearly a year ago.
He noticed that between the pages was a folded piece of paper separate from the journal's binding. It looked the same as it did when he had given it to Desmond the day he realized his fate. His 'Greatest Hits', he had called it. The greatest moments of his life; from when Liam gave him the family ring to when he met Claire Littleton.
He slowly lay next to her on the makeshift bed, taking up his usual spot whenever he slept next to her. Silently, he watched her sleep and hoped she was dreaming. There was a tiny smile on her face, as though she felt him there. His eyes guided down to the dull ring on her finger; his ring. The initials, 'DS' were slightly scratched, most likely from his previous travels with Jack and Kate through the jungle, his scruff with Desmond probably did not help the condition of the Pace ring either. He had left it in Aaron's crib to pass on the family name. Sure, Aaron was not his biological son, but the little turnip-head would always be his son; everyone on the island knew that. He did not have to adopt Aaron to make him his son, just like he did not have to marry Claire to make her his wife. God knew the love they shared.
He watched her slowly open her sapphire-blue eyes. She looked directly back at his ocean eyes but she did not know that he was even there. He saw a deep sadness in her eyes; a tortured soul. She pushed herself off of the blanket covered sand and she crawled over to the crib Locke had built for the happy couple.
He sat up and knelt by the opposite edge of the crib and looked down at the sleeping boy. It was a miracle that Aaron was silent as he had constantly kept the two up during the night; but that was a year ago. So much had changed in so little of time.
He pushed the edge of the crib, causing it to rock back and forth. He knew that Claire would think the wind caused this. He sat by as she performed her daily routine. She cleaned herself with the few items that were salvaged from the ruins of the Oceanic Flight 815 plane. Then, she cradled Aaron in her arms and walked through the sand over to Sun. She was always more than happy to watch baby Aaron while Claire went for her morning walk.
She always thought she walked alone, yet he walked right next to her every morning, singing next to her. She hugged herself as she walked but did not feel the third arm wrapped around her. She turned to the shore of the ocean and sat down, allowing the water to rise past her ankles and rush away again. She drew in the sand a heart with his name in the middle of it.
As soon as she finished the end of the 'e', there was a high-pitched screeching sound emitting from the unknown. She covered her ears and got up, running back to Sun and Aaron.
"Aaron!" she screamed, trying to keep her ears covered. She ran to him and covered his ears instead, cringing at the sound entering her ears. The three looked around panicked and then other survivors began crowding around, confused.
He too looked all around, the sound not distressing him. He watched Claire fall to her knees with Aaron in her arms and heard all the survivors let out screams. All at once they fell to the ground, eyes shut and bodies cold as death. Only one still stood; the one whose presence was unknown. He remained next to Claire, patting her cheek to revive her. He was knelt over her, watching for any sign of life. Then, her chest heaved air and she opened her eyes once more, looking upward. Her first priority was her son, who too had awoken. One by one the islanders sat up, looking all around.
"My God, this is some freaky Potter-shit!" Sawyer yelled from the shore.
He followed Claire as she ran with Aaron towards Sawyer. When she passed through the jungle, other islanders following, she froze at the sight before her eyes. There stood Boone, Shannon, and Mr. Eko.
"W-...What?" Claire stuttered. She still recalled the day she, Charlie, Jack, Hurley, and Kate buried the three. Yet, here they were, standing right before them.
Kate ran out of the jungle too, halting in her steps at the sight as well.
"I don't believe in ghosts...but now I'm convinced." she whispered. Boone looked down at himself, piercing blue eyes looking over at his sister and the priest he did not recognize.
"We're not ghosts...we're as real as you are." he whispered, shocked by his own words.