Why We Love

Summary: It's been months, and the survivors are slipping into the mundane, losing hope at the same time. Also, a look at the past and what finally broke Abby's protective shell. One-shot drabble.

Disclaimer: I – unfortunately – do not own Flight 29 Down or any of it's fantastic – and some drool-worthy – characters.

A/N: Hey, everyone. Not much to say about this story. It's a Jackson-Melissa one-shot, and I really hope you like it. Please read and review.

By the way, the flashback is not in italics, but is set off by specific notation. I know it's unprofessional, but I thought all the italics would be annoying to read.

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Days, months, years… No, that wasn't right. Minutes, hours, mornings, nights – these were the units of measure of time adopted by the survivors. Dates had become negligible, and even Lex had lost track of calendar days. The little garden Lex had started in the first week on the island had flourished, bringing them tomatoes, carrots, and other vegetables. They were grateful for it, but at the same time it depressed them greatly that it was actually vital to them. They were beginning to lose hope, and it was with deep sorrow that Taylor thought back to those days in July when she had said, "We won't be here long!" and had actually believed it. None of them believed that any more.

As Melissa pulled herself from the wood, she noticed Jackson sitting by the fire with Nathan and Taylor, waiting for breakfast. It seemed that whenever she saw him now, she felt a puncture in her heart grow slightly wider. It was almost painful for her—staying on this island—because it meant that she had to continue to placate her feelings for him. Nathan and Daley seemed to have done the same, and they were fine with just acting like good friends and waiting for salvation to come. Sometimes she thought to herself, Why should we have to hide our feelings if everyone already knows them? But she knew that it was the right thing. Still, she felt the pain of it every day. No one had rescued them yet. She had now suffered for what must have been months in real time.

After splitting up, the two groups had lived separate lives for just long enough to realize that there wasn't much hope in staying separate. There was no resort or band of friendly islanders waiting to put them up in hotel rooms and feed them from silver spoons.

The now lived together, once again, with their lives depending on 29DWN and whatever resources they could find in the jungle.

When they had split up, Abby had still been as ornery as she'd been when she had hobbled out of the jungle and started barking death sentences. The only people she seemed to have had the remotest respect for were Nathan and Jackson, although it seemed that she was more overpowered by Jackson than in any sort of awe of him. When they left, Jackson lost none of his domineering air, and he and Abby clashed until she finally realized that she was waging a losing battle.

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Abby strode toward Jackson, who was sitting on a rock, seemingly beating the life out of the end of a long stick. She had been on the rocks with him since they had left Daley, Nathan, Taylor, and Lex back at the camp, but she somehow kept finding new things to argue with him about. She knew that he wouldn't want to hear what she had to say to him this time.

"Jackson," she addressed him, trying to keep the conversation out of earshot of the other two, especially Melissa. "Jackson, we need to talk."

He didn't look up. "What now, Abby?"

"You're not going to want to hear this, but I think that it's necessary."

"What, Abby?" he asked irately.

"I think that Melissa and Eric should turn back, go back to camp."

Jackson looked up at her, sheer annoyance and disbelief in his eyes. He glanced over at Melissa, who was sitting at the shoreline, staring at the ocean and distractedly fingering a banana peel. Then he looked back at Abby. "Why?"

"You know why. The two of them are slowing us down. No matter how hard Melissa tries to accommodate our pace, she'll never be fast enough. You know that, Jackson."

"No, actually, I don't. I think that Melissa—and Eric, for that matter—is perfectly capable of going as fast as we are. Even if Eric does—"

"Oh, will you two get over yourselves?" Abby responded coldly. He looked at her, shooting furious challenges and warnings at her. She ignored them. "Look, I couldn't care less about the two of you shooting googly-eyes at one another. I think you're both idiots. You think that having a stupid little romance will make anything better? All it does is cloud your judgment. Face it: Melissa isn't as strong as you and me. Just because you're in love or something doesn't mean you should be doing her favors."

Jackson was slowly getting worked up, as he had during other squalls with Abby.

"Why do you automatically think that I'm just saying this because I like her? We need Melissa just as much as we need you on this trip."

Abby's face twisted into a sour grimace. "She's weak," she said a bit more quietly. She knew she was getting a bit too far in Jackson's personal affairs, but she really didn't care. Survival is survival. It's only for the strong.

Jackson looked over Abby's shoulder to make sure that Melissa was still on the shoreline, then he turned back to his opponent. He seemed to be returning to his usual sage, masculine state as he said, "I can't believe you."

"Why's that?" Her stony expression didn't waver.

Jackson's hands slowly went back to hacking at the stick. "When you came back to our camp the first time, you seemed to have been the same Abby who'd left. Everyone loved you and you were a quiet girl who wanted to appease everyone. Sort of like Melissa."

Abby looked annoyed. "I—"

"But then, you decided to leave again. And we all understood why. You left for a while and we got back into a pattern of living. Even Eric was happy with it sometimes, so don't even think of using him." He had caught her opening her mouth, and she shut it firmly.

"But you came back again, this time all beaten up from jungle wandering, and you decided to shake up the camp on purpose. None of us understood that." He gave her a moment to digest before he finished his grudging thought.

He leaned toward her and said, "I want to know where the real Abby is. The nice, charming Abby that I can actually tolerate." He stood up and, without giving her a word edgewise, stalked toward the fire that Eric was cooking fish on.

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Melissa turned and looked at Abby. She didn't want the other two to realize that she had, in fact, heard some of their argument. More than anything, she was disturbed to see Jackson—smooth, mysterious, undaunted Jackson—becoming so disgruntled at Abby's hands. She didn't want him getting bent out of shape just because Abby thought that she was a problem.

Melissa stood up, brushed sand from her pants, and started slowly toward Abby. She didn't want the other girl to get upset and run off before they had a chance to talk. Abby had her pretty, scratched-up face in her hands, and it was hard for Melissa to determine whether she was fuming or crying.

"Abby?" she said quietly, hoping that she could get Abby to look up.

"What?" Abby's agitated voice cracked a bit as she answered. She didn't move.

"Abby, why are you and Jackson fighting?" Melissa coaxed, although she was already well aware of the answer.

"You wouldn't understand." It was still difficult to tell what emotional state she was in, because her stony, irate expression seemed to be cracking furiously with tears.

"Whatever you think about me, it's okay," Melissa said. Abby looked at her, and Melissa saw that she had been rubbing her eyes, although she hadn't cried.

"You heard that?" Abby asked cautiously. Melissa nodded slightly, and for a second she thought that Abby was going to start yelling again. Instead, she put her hands back to her face and moaned, "Oh, man. What is wrong with me?"

"Abby." Melissa gained the confidence to move closer to her former friend and kneel in front of her. "I agree with what Jackson asked: Where's the old Abby? I loved that Abby. This Abby… I'm not sure."

Abby stiffened and sat up again. "Melissa, do you have any idea what it's like in the jungle? Do you know what it does to people?" She looked over herself for a moment, then turned her stare back to Melissa. "It does this. It makes you independent and… I don't know. It gives you perspective on your life. It makes you realize that, if you want to survive, you can't act like a little princess. You have to work for yourself and not worry about everyone else's stupid problems." She glared down at her hands.

"Abby, don't you remember why you went back into the jungle? Didn't you go back in to save Ian and Jory and Captain Russell? Even if you don't realize it any more, at one point you did feel so strongly for other people that you were willing to risk your own life for them. I'm not sure what happened to that, but I wish the part of you that felt that would come back." Abby still wouldn't look at her, so Melissa slowly stood up and turned around, looking longingly at the crystalline-blue ocean.

"Melissa," Abby said softly, and Melissa could sense her protective shell coming down. She turned to listen to the other girl. "Mel, I'm sorry. I- it's just hard, you know? You're on the beach, and you get to be one person, who can work with everyone else and stuff, and then you go out there and suddenly…" She paused and sighed painfully. "Suddenly, you're someone completely different. It's not that you want to be that person; you have to be someone else, or the world will eat you alive. It's one of the scariest things to realize that you're all alone, that if you die, no one will know. Eventually, no one will remember your name." She looked up into Melissa's eyes. "It makes you want to do anything to make sure that you live long enough to be around when everyone else is telling stories about what happened back on the island. No matter what it takes, or who you have to be. You just have to live long enough."

Melissa's lips pressed tightly together and she moved to hug Abby, although she was hesitant. She read Abby's body language as she moved toward the other girl, and was relieved to feel Abby's arms reach toward her and warmly embrace her body. She secured her arms tightly around her friend's body and stroked her back as she felt the sobs wracking her body. Melissa smiled, both sadly and happily. She had finally broken Abby down. Now, it seemed, the world could be at peace again.

Before long, the girls broke apart and Melissa found that Abby was smiling, despite her tear-strewn cheeks and scabbed chin.

"Okay?" Mel asked gently. Abby nodded, and Melissa smiled, standing again and walking away toward the fire. She should probably leave Abby alone for a while before she would want to talk to them again.

"However you did that, thank you," Jackson whispered to Melissa as she approached him and Eric at the little fire pit. She smiled wryly.

"She'll be fine. But I want you to know: you two don't have to get into fights over stupid things like that. If she wants me gone, then I'll go. I can't speak for Eric, but…"

"No, Melissa." They looked in back of them, and Eric looked up at Abby expectantly. He hadn't heard a word of the fight, and he was stoking the fire in ignorant bliss. "I was completely wrong. We need you, just as much as we need Jackson, or me, or Eric. You keep us together. I think…" They could tell she was trying to defeat a mountain in herself, getting over her wild and hardened jungle personality. They waited.

"I think you hold us together. That's really important right now."

Melissa smiled and Jackson sighed thankfully. Finally she realized this. Mel held her hand out to her friend and pulled her over to sit by the fire. Abby accepted graciously and sat between Melissa and Jackson. Jackson wanted to hug Melissa for finally getting through to Abby, but that could wait for another day. Right now they just had to get home.

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Melissa looked across the camp at Jackson. He sat by the fire, cleaning fish and poking at the embers and logs. She didn't know how he could continue to live like this. She looked around her. Nathan, Daley, Taylor, and Abby were all out on the beach, mundanely performing different camp duties. She guessed that Lex was inside the plane doing something brilliant with electricity, and Eric was getting water. How could they all go about their lives, as if this was their life? She couldn't take it.

She stalked over to the fire pit and plunked onto a log near Jackson, picking up a coconut and hacking at it numbly with a nearby rock. Jackson stopped fingering the fish and looked over at Melissa. She concentrated on the coconut husk as she spoke.

"How is it," the coconut cracked, "that we can just," the shell began to come apart, and she put more energy into her thrusts, trying to bring it fully open, "live like this?" The shell cracked unexpectedly, and coconut milk spilled out, narrowly missing her hands. Instead, it sloshed over her shorts, and she threw the husks away angrily as she found a nearby towel and wiped the fabric off.

"Whoa, whoa, what are you talking about?" Jackson asked in alarm at her sudden burst of anger. He put the fish down on a stone by the fire and turned to her, wiping his hands on his shirt. He reached out to touch her arm, hoping to placate her, but she moved away from him and stood up, starting to stomp off. "Hey, hey, wait a second!" He reached an arm out in attempt to stop her, but before he could, she spun around and crumpled in front of him, putting her hands on his legs and burying her face into his lap. He looked down at her, completely alarmed. He brought his hand uncertainly to her head, letting his fingers sink carefully into her black hair as he attempted to calm her.

She sobbed violently into his legs, and he felt his mind running out of solutions. He bent over her and said quietly to the back of her head, "Mel, what's wrong?"

She sniffed and mumbled something incomprehensible at his lap. He caught the words "die," "nothing," and "miserable" before he finally reached his hand to her chin and made her lift her face from his contact. She knelt in front of him, her coffee-colored, scarlet-cheeked face leaning up to look at him, her eyes blazing and somehow radiating the ultimate misery that she was trying to convey to him. He couldn't stop his thumb from wiping across her cheeks, just to rid them of the helpless tears.

He spoke to her again. "Melissa, what is wrong?"

She paused and sniffed for a long time, always bringing her eyes back to his patient face. "I don't want to die here, Jackson," she whispered throatily, her lips trembling as she continued to stare at him. "But I'm realizing now that I don't want to live here, either. I don't want this place to be my life." Finally she said, in her quietest whisper, "I want to go home."

Jackson sighed and leaned over, pulling her back up so that she could sit on the log with him. Without words now, he turned to her and her body twisted toward his. Her face pressed to his shoulder and his arms encircled her tightly, her arms pressing into his chest as she started crying again, this time feeling the security of his touch on her. Her entire form shook violently, and he waited patiently for her body to still before he unwrapped his arms and put his hands to the sides of her face, pressing gently on her hot cheeks and wiping them again.

"I'm sorry," she said, her face becoming even warmer with embarrassment. He didn't mind.

"I am, too. I didn't think about it, but this is hard for you, isn't it?" She looked at him again, and she could tell that he finally understood her. "You're a good person, Mel. But you're emotional. Having emotion in you that you can't act on… that must be hard." She didn't know how he could manage to talk to her objectively about her feelings if he had them, too.

"Do you still…?" She didn't want to finish the thought, in case he didn't.

"Yes," he said simply, knowing what she was asking him. She smiled tearfully and sighed.

"I'm sorry," she repeated. She felt bad for making him the victim of her breakdown. He just smiled and rubbed her shoulder.

"It's okay. And don't worry; we won't be here forever. I won't let that happen, or I'll go just as crazy." He leaned toward her and said, with an air of confidentiality, "I think I need you just as much as you need me. I won't let us die without having been together." He hugged her to him and said in her ear, "Don't worry, you have me."

"That's all I need, then."

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A/N: Yeah, so it took me a little under FOREVER to figure out how many days Christmas Day would be from the day they crashed. Anyway, I hope you all liked this, and please leave some reviews. Thanks!