Honestly, he was accepting of the fact he was going to die. The only thing he was going to miss in life was the only thing he had lived for. Shannon.
It made no sense, and Boone knew it. He knew that he shouldn't love the one who had manipulated him, tricked him, degraded his own self-esteem to the point where he thought he wasn't worth anyone's time or looks. But he did.
He did.
Mostly, he knew, it was just lust for her. To feel those lips against his, her hands against his skin, her body against his, was the greatest rush he had ever felt. He and Shannon both knew Sydney wasn't the first time this had happened; this had been going on for years now, and it wasn't something they could stop. Maybe the only time they agreed was when they were having sex. Who knew, really?
All Boone knew was he needed to stay alive long enough to tell her he needed her. Maybe that was it. He didn't love her; he needed her. Almost as bad, but not as drastic and cliche. Love was overrated, anyway. Shannon had told him long ago that love was for the weak, the destructible, the ones who wore their hearts on their sleeves. If that was the case, Boone had fallen in love many times with the girl everyone still considered his little sister.
They were more than step-siblings. For Boone and Shannon, their lives revolved around each other in one way or another. Boone needed her to feel special, to feel crazy and rushed and dramatic. To feel good about himself. Hell, he still didn't know what he was to Shannon. Maybe he was just her toy. He had been treated as one since he was little, doing her dirty deeds and sticking up for her when she needed it. The head tilt and smile was what caught him off-guard.
He was ashamed of it sometimes.
Most kids wouldn't be in love with their own sisters. But Boone had lain awake many a night thinking this over. None of them had sisters like Shannon. That seemed the only logical explanation, so it was the one he fitted inside his mind. It was disgusting, really, when he thought of his classmates, or dormmates being in love with their sisters. Step-sisters, even.
But it was different with Shannon. Always had been.
Pain wasn't anything new to the California boy. He had had his share of accidents, broken both arms, maybe fractured a finger. But this.. This was excruciating. That was how he knew he was going to die. It felt as though something as heavy as a 500 pound safe had been lain on his stomach and just left there, slowly compressing him. He knew he was going to die. That was why he told Jack he was letting him off the hook. No point in making him miserable for a few more days until infection set in and he died on this God-forsaken island. There was no point at all.
He was delirious. Maybe it was the heat that he was sure was fake hovering over him, maybe it was because he knew death was near. But he knew it was why he opened his mouth.
"Tell Shannon.."
She wasn't around. He had to get this out. And he had to get it out now.
"Tell Shannon.." Oh, God, he couldn't get it out.
Come on, you worthless bastard, tell him!
He tried to force something else out, but just choked. Choked. Just like that. He was going to die in his attempt. Oh, so tragic. First the seduction game, her bitterness with him, the plane crash, being stuck on this island, and now he was going to die trying to tell Shannon he needed her. If it were fake, Boone would've been rolling around laughing at himself by now. It was so cliche, yet so original. And he still couldn't get it out. He choked again, trying to force the words past his lips. Jack's face was fading in and out, and Boone knew this was his last chance. He tried to say 'tell' one more time, but his eyes fluttered closed, and for a second, the blue-eyed boy thought he was just going to pass out. He felt as though he had been drugged and was slowly losing conciousness.
Dammit.
His eyes closed again, and Boone tried to shift, tried to say something else. He couldn't move. His body was frozen, and he could feel Jack watching him, felt Jack's hand skim over his face. He had already given up on him.
So Boone gave up on himself. He felt a rush of wind from somewhere, but he couldn't even shiver. Petrified, just like that. He wondered for a moment if he was ever going to die.
Just let me die.
His head started to swim, and he felt himself break down inside. This was it. He was going to die on this island. And as everything went out and Boone's tense body relaxed, he thought he could hear Shannon's voice inside his head.
Thank you.
This had been over before it even began.
Tell Shannon she can find herself another toy.