A.N. I've had this idea for a while, so I thought I'd write it, seeing as we are approaching the end of the show and things are starting to make sense. I ask you to bear with me, for this is probably gonna be a little confusing for a while. Trust me, it'll all make sense and I promise it'll be worth it. ^.^

"Are you okay?"

The voice rang through her ears--ripped her from her dreams. She slowly opened her eyes, taking careful note of how heavy they were and how much they stung. She took a deep breath, but it was stopped short as pain shot through her chest.

"Easy, easy."

Her eyes fell on the man that was speaking to her. He was above her, his face covered in sweat; dark stubble lined his chin and jaw line.

"W-what--" She choked out, but her voice was quiet. Her throat ached for something to soothe its thirst. She tried to sit up, her elbows jutting out to help her rise. An electric shock shot through her arm and she hissed in pain. This man, who was kneeled beside her, placed a hand on her shoulder, urging her to stay put.

"No, you need to rest."

She blinked as he eased her back down to the ground. Her hands found the coarse sand that she was lying on and she eagerly looked around. Water lapped against a shore and trees rustled in the breeze--her eyes, however, failed her; giving her no more to look at than blurred colors.

"What's your name?" The man asked, turning to retrieve a plastic bottle of water that had been laying next to them. He easily brought it to her lips, one hand cradling beneath her chin so as not to spill any on her.

She took two sips before turning her head away; though the water was soothing, it was painful to swallow. "Alice." She lied: the thought of answering with her real name had crossed her mind as it always did, but the lying just came too fast and too easily now-a-days. "My name is Alice." Her left hand instinctively slid up to her face, searching for her glasses. Sand that had clung to her fingers scraped against her face. "Who are you?" Alice asked wearily, squinting at the man beside her.

"Jack Shepard." He answered. "I'm a doctor." He told her matter-of-factly. "Do you remember what happened?"

Alice sighed as the scratching in her throat subsided, allowing her to take note of a sharp numbing sensation in her right arm. It was less harrowing now that she had taken weight off of it, allowing her to choose to ignore it as she tried to recall those last moments before she had blacked out. "I-I was on a plane."

Jack nodded his head. "Oceanic 815."

"Yeah, on my way to L.A." Alice pursed her lips. "Did we crash?"

After a moment, Jack touched her arm--his silence answering her question. "I think you've broken your arm. I already set it, but you need to make sure that you keep it in the splints."

She raised her head and let her eyes travel to gaze at her arm and sure enough, there were two sticks on either side of her right forearm, bound with ripped ties. Alice tried moving her fingers. Frowning, she let her head settle back against her sandy bed. "Where are we?"

Jack hesitated a moment, sniffling as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "I'm not sure."

A deep pitted fear gripped her stomach, but she calmed herself--It was unnerving not to know where she was. She gave Jack a minute as he looked over her, checking to see if there was anything more he could do for her now that she was awake. "May I sit up, now?"

"You feel up for it?"

Alice rolled her eyes and then began to help herself up, but Jack leant a hand. After she was up, her head spun and unconsciously her hand went to her face once more--it felt strange to not have her glasses settled on her nose. "Did, uh," Alice started, glancing around her: she knew it would do no good, for her near-sidedness only allowed her to see things within several inches, but it was out of habit. "My glasses." She finished simply, flicking her eyes to Jack.

His expression went out of Alice's line of vision as he leaned back and reached for something near her. "These?" Jack tentatively handed her a pair of glasses; they were thick framed, with a common rectangular shape.

Alice fingered them before slipping them on over her nose. "Huh." She breathed out, blinking as her sight came back. "What luck." Alice smiled, glancing back to where Jack had found them: Her frames must have stayed on her face until the very last moment.

"Are you in any pain?"

Using her free hand, she moved her left arm onto her lap. The exposed skin had already began to bruise; there was no open wound, however. It was numb, tingling and achy--along with the rest of her body, including her head--but it wasn't agonizing. Alice frowned. "Besides a pounding headache, no."

Jack reached forward, gently touching her face with his hands. Alice assumed he was probably checking a scrape or a cut. "You probably have a concussion." Jack commented, obviously distracted.

Despite the occasional breeze, the air here was hot. The sun did not beat down upon her, and as Alice's reasoning came back to her, she gazed out of the makeshift lean-to she was in. She was on a beach. Something about the location was eerily familiar, and on impulse she shifted to get a look behind her: foliage--deep, menacing, tropical foliage. "How long was I out?" Alice asked, attempting to lock eyes with the man that still was poking and prodding at her forehead.

"A little more than a day since the crash." Jack answered, sitting back on his heels. He then handed her the bottle of water. "I'm going to go check on the others. Let me know if your arm swells or if your headache doesn't go away." He patted his thighs before rising. "And be sure to drink lots of water." He had to crouch under the lean-to, but without another word, he left down the beach.

Alice called after him with her thanks, but she knew that he hadn't heard her. He had already gotten to far before she had come to her senses. He seemed like he was busy anyway, like he had too many things on his mind: Alice promised herself that she would thank him again later. Sighing deeply, Alice took another worried glance through the lean-to and behind her at the undergrowth before whispering under her breath. "Please, for gods-sakes, don't let this be where I think it is."


15 Years Ago

It was near three in the morning and Ben pushed his way through the jungle back to the barracks. He was exhausted as it was, with all the recent missions that Richard had been sending him on, but walking back was by far the hardest part of his night. One hand on the shoulder-strap of his pack, Ben broke through the thick flora and into the a clearing of the Dharma Initiative barracks. He stopped for a moment to catch his breath and looked around to make sure that no one was around--if anyone found out that he was training with the Others, everything that Ben had worked for all these years, would be for nothing.
But the empty air was cold and silent were it not for the constant chatter of frogs awaiting the impending rain; this appeased his worries. Ben shrugged his pack further onto his back and trudged toward his house. He hadn't taken more than ten steps before he jerked to a halt: A swing in the playground was occupied. He kicked himself for not seeing the figure earlier--this could mean serious consequences for him. But despite the fear that had suddenly gripped Ben, the figure on the swing was not looking at him, in fact, Ben wondered if the person had even noticed him at all.

There was no moon tonight, but the remnant illumination from one of the house flood lights stretched just enough for him to make out the deep blue work uniform. There was a part of him that warned him to get away before he was caught, but his curiosity got the better of him and he cautiously stepped closer. What were they doing out here this late? And why hadn't they called to him?
The staff member was not looking at Ben, but upwards at the sky: just staring at the stars.

The snap of the twig under Bens foot was enough to give him a heart-attack: he nearly jumped out of his own skin. He sucked in a breath of air, his gaze shooting to the culprit stick beneath his foot, then to the figure that had lowered her head to stare at him. If she hadn't seen him before, she definitely saw him now.

"Hello?"

Ben swallowed, but quickly recovered. "It's way past curfew, you know." He told her confidently, striding forward towards her.

The woman smirked. "Oh, sure, you say that like I'm the only one breaking it." Ben stopped at the gate separating the playground from the sidewalk and stared at her. She gestured to the empty swing beside her.

Ben eyed her warily. "You don't know that I'm not security." He sneered. Ben was several feet from her, and still he could not recognize her: this bothered him, for he knew most everyone in the initiative.

The woman raised an eyebrow at him, curiously before answering. "If you were security, you'd have already reported me."

His jaw unconsciously tensed. Ben knew that he should be getting home, he didn't want to risk his father waking up and finding Ben's bedroom empty. Damn the initiative for not giving him his own house. "Why are you out here?" Ben asked, somewhat impatiently.

"I could ask you the same thing." The woman shot back, her pale hands gripping the chain swing-set as she leaned towards him.

"But I asked first." Ben was starting to recognize her now. She was one of the new initiates. He had seen her about a week ago, lining up with the other newbie's for a ceremonial picture. He tried to remember her name…

She frowned, taking a second to think it over. "I guess that's fair enough." She then gestured to the seat next to her, and did not speak until Ben finally gave in and hesitantly came forward. "I can't sleep."

"That much is obvious." Ben replied, sarcastically, as he laid his backpack by one of the support poles before taking a seat on the swing beside her. "Homesick?"

"Naw," She shook her head. "I kinda like it here." She gazed off in the direction where Ben had appeared. "I'm just more of a night owl, I guess." Her voice trailed, her mind in another place and time.

Ben studied her; she didn't have a very good poker-face. She wore her emotions on her sleeve: He knew it was a flaw that she would always carry with her. "What's your name?"

"Zoey." She answered. "Zoey Decker." Her brown eyes met his and she smiled.

"Benjamin Linus."


Friday, 24 September 2004

With a grunt, Alice yanked a backpack free from the pile that the other survivors had created in order to organize and find their belongings. Alice stumbled backwards with the sudden release, the fabric shoulder strap of the backpack still in her grasp. Gathering herself and taking a deep breath, Alice dropped to her knees and unzipped the front pocket. Sticking her free hand into the pouch, she cradled her broken arm against her chest: the makeshift sling that she'd made was starting to come loose.

"Any luck?"

Alice glanced over to the woman that had spoken. She was resting a few feet away; watching Alice. Alice pulled her hand from the backpack, holding a beat-up book, and with a quick glance to the unfamiliar trashy novel, she shook her head. "Nope." She placed it back in the bag that wasn't hers before moving to sit next to the woman: Alice had been searching for her backpack for over an hour, meeting someone new would be a good excuse to take a break. It also helped that Alice recognized her: they had been sitting a couple seats from each other on the plane.

"I'm Claire."

"Alice." She replied, glancing at the Australian woman's large belly. She stared as Claire rubbed it lovingly. The thoughts that followed struck a chord in her--Alice prayed that they really weren't where she thought they were…

"I'm glad you found them--your glasses, I mean." She gestured to her own face, but before Alice could ask, Claire continued. "You'd passed out and I'd just happened to come across them."

Alice didn't stop the twitch of her lips. Claire must have recalled seeing her with them on while they were on the plane. She must have placed them near Alice for her to find. "That was awful sweet of you." Alice replied, sincerely. "I really can't thank you enough." She rolled her eyes, "You have no idea how much I rely on them."

Claire nodded, swallowing, not knowing what else to say, then after a moment; "You're American." She observed with a gentle smile, her voice bringing Alice's eyes back to hers'. "What brought you to Sydney?" She curled a strand of blond hair behind her ear with her finger.

She knew that Claire was just trying to be nice, trying to pass the time, trying to forget the tragedy they were all in. Alice decided to play along, despite knowing that it wouldn't do anything for her own nerves. "Uhhm," Adjusting the make-shift sling on her arm, Alice allowed herself a few seconds to think it over. "I was just visiting." She told Claire simply.

Claire chewed on the inside of her cheek, shifting her weight slightly for comfort, leaning back against a suitcase half-buried in the sand. "You live in L.A.?" She squinted, shading the sun from her eyes with her hand as she glanced back to Alice.

Alice shook her head, her eyes averted to the sand under her feet. "No." She reached down and took a handful of coarse sand, letting it seep through her fingertips.

Attempting a smile, Claire watched the expression on Alice's face change as she gazed, entranced in the yellow sand. Claire decided that it was probably best not to inquire further. "I hope I wasn't interrupting anything." She commented, gesturing to the pile of luggage behind them.

"Oh, uh, no!" Alice shook her head, her eyes following Claires'. "I was just looking for my bag. Thought I'd like a book to read while we wait for rescue, ya know?" She wiped the sand from her hand on the knees of her jeans. There was a part of her that knew that rescue would never come, but she wasn't about to express that to Claire--or anyone else for that matter. Alice cleared her throat. "So, why were you headed to L.A.?"

Claire cradled her belly. "There's a family there." She paused, staring down at her unborn child. "They were going to give him a good home."

It didn't take Alice long to figure out what Claire was talking about. "Oh! Oh, I'm sorry. I had no idea--"

"Don't be." Claire interjected. "It's what's best for the baby." Her head cocked to the side, clearly thinking of the type of home that her child would have--a loving mother and father, a dog… perhaps even another brother or sister…

Alice bit her lip, worrying the dry skin. She couldn't imagine what Claire must be going through, for she herself had never been pregnant. Alice brought her gaze back down to her own hand, pale and small--It would have been nice to have kids, but being on the run all the time hindered that dream.

"Well, I better get back to finding my own stuff." Claire began after a long moment. "It was nice to meet you, Alice." Claire started to get up, but seeing her struggle, Alice quickly stood and offered Claire her only free hand.

"And you too, Claire."