Hi! So it took me over a month to write this chapter. I know, crazy. It was totally worth it, however. This story is going to be a Klaus and Caroline fanfiction in a Lost au where they are Sawyer and Kate. This chapter doesn't really consist of a lot of KC though, because I was focusing more on explaining the story. Not to fear though! The next chapter will feature so much KC that you'll be begging for Klamille (I sure hope not). I want to dedicate this chapter to Salma and Mela, two of the members of the trio Salmelandy. I really hope they enjoy it, and I hope you enjoy it to. And oh, Julie Plec, if you're reading this? I hope you enjoy the story.

Be sure to comment what you think will happen, your thoughts, what I could improve on... anything, really!

Love,

Amanda

Since the commencement of time, the planet Earth has been prone to accidents. They are tragic, perilous, and mortifying, but we never seem to acknowledge just how lamentable they are until they transpire to us. On September 22nd of 2004, an airplane filled with strangers crashed onto an uninhabited island in the middle of Sydney, Australia and Los Angeles. Dozens of strangers, destined to become friends. For some of them, however, maybe even more.

An eerily handsome man in an ebony and white suit laid on the jungle floor, silent like the night. Ironically, the world around him was anything but silent. Crickets chirped, their whispers aimed with the goal of waking him up. And so he did. With a great gasp, Stefan Salvatore's forest green eyes clicked open. Fear quickly swept through him as he took in his surroundings. Stalks of bamboo performed as his temporary shelter, until a rustling in the bushes made him aware that he wasn't alone.

Stefan was deathly frightened. All he wanted to do was call out his father's name. Unfortunately, he was well aware that if he moved, he was dead. So he remained on the ground, until an innocent yellow lab made his presence known. He chuckled to himself, knowing just how ridiculous of a situation this was. Then he gave the dog another look. It was staring at him, comforting him during his time of need.

Finally, the lab turned and plodded back into the forest, giving Stefan the sign that it was okay to get up. Slowly, he attempted to turn over, but there was a throbbing pain on his back that averted him from doing so effortlessly. He somehow managed to get to his feet, reaching into his jacket pocket for a miniature bottle of bourbon. For a moment, Stefan stared at his old friend, considering if he should welcome him, or deem him a demon.

Before he could make his decision, however, a frighteningly loud banging noise filled the air. Stefan, being the hero that he was, had to find out what it was. He ran with as much expeditiousness as he could, brushing through the thick green bamboo forest as he placed the bottle back in his pocket.

It was a truly magical moment as he brushed out of the forest and onto the beach. The ocean glistened resplendent blue and green colors if nothing in the world was wrong. A quick glance to the right, though, told Stefan otherwise. It looked like a warzone. Dozens of people, some of them injured, ran frantically around plane wreckage and scattered fires, screaming. He froze, too traumatized by the people who surrounded him.

All of a sudden, a man shouted, and Stefan turned towards the source of the loud noise. He was trapped under two rows of airplane seats, just ten feet away from the side of the malfunctioning engine. Without hesitation, Stefan knew what he had to do. He made his way towards the man as fast as he could, catching onto brief clips of other peoples' conversations.

A handsome Korean man hollered his wife's name breathlessly. "Sun! Sun!" Meanwhile, our hero zoomed past a strikingly beautiful twenty-year-old brunette. While her tears trailed on her baby pink zipped sweatshirt to her matching skirt, she screeched,"Matty!" at the top of her lungs.

Stefan finally reached the man under the seats. His eardrums almost bled from the deafening hum of the engine, but he refused to allow himself to be selfish. He couldn't be selfish. Not like his father, Damon, had been that day in the operating room. As sweat spilled from his skin and his face turned a brilliant red color, he endeavored to push the row of seats off the man. "Damn it", he mumbled to himself, more frustrated than he had ever been on his many years in the world. Just then, a group of men passed by. "You there", Stefan shouted to a balding old man and a redhead. "Can you help me..."

"Yeah, sure." Together, they lifted the chair up, and pushed the man to the side. Stefan ripped off his tie, and proceeded to tie it around his bleeding leg like only a doctor would. As he tied the leg, he looked around the chaotic scene and found dozens of other emergencies that deserved dire attention. A 60 year old woman laid unconscious on the sand, with a honey haired boy trying to revive her. Across the field of debris, a pregnant woman leaned on her knees, struggling to stand. She was all alone. Stefan yelled, "Move him somewhere safe", as he sped over towards the beautiful dark-skinned girl with greater speed than a fugitive on the run.

Paying little attention to the fatigue he was beginning to experience, the hero arrived just in time to help her up. She fell again, and he repeated the process. A tear fell down the girl's face. "I'm having contractions…"

Stefan rested his hand on her back, and aided her in laying down on the crystal white sand. He gazed at the fiery orb called the sun, and back at the sweat that was falling down the woman's face. "How many months along are you?"

The woman's single tear duplicated into many more, that fell down her face like rain falls from gray clouds. "It's been almost eight months now."

He turned his head towards the young man who was still trying to revive the old lady. Stefan glanced back at the incredibly beautiful Australian woman. "Would you mind telling me how far apart they are?"

"I'm not sure... I know a few of them just happened but I'm not very good at counting them."

"Okay here's what we're-" He was interrupted by the screams of a man as he got sucked into the airplane's engines as it exploded. Debris littered the air, and fell on top of the two of them like snow falls on Christmas. Only, this certainly didn't feel like Christmas. The girl let out a little shriek, and it became obvious she'd lived a life protected from bloody tragedies. Not Stefan, though. He allowed himself five seconds to be afraid, to be terrified, and then composed himself. "What's your name?"

She made what appeared to be her attempt at a smile during a painful moment. It quickly dwindled away, leading to another declaration of terror. "I'm Bonnie, sir. Bonnie Bennett."

"Bonnie, everything is going to be alright. I promise." He searched the debris, and made eye contact with an obese, but friendly, giant who was passing by. His curly brown hair bounced up and down as he listened to his walkman, distracting himself from the disturbing event that had just taken place. "Excuse me. Would you mind keeping an eye on my friend?"

"Yeah, sure." Just then, the man noticed her blossoming stomach, and began to make a whimper-like noise. "Uh, dude- I can't…"

Stefan grinned ever so slightly, comforting both of them even though they'd both just took a trip to hell and back. It was the facial expression he always did back in the hospital, using his most discreet bedside manner. "Thanks." He wiped his face with a piece of his torn black jacket as he began to run away."

"Wait!" Bonnie shouted, and he turned around. "What's your name?"

He spun around faster than light, amazing the girl. "Stefan. Stefan Salvatore." With that, our hero continued his journey with the goal of saving everyone.

The jungle was a place that many animals called their home. Beatles lived in the crisp brown leaves, and green vines hung from the rare breed of palm trees. In addition, a Banyan tree could be seen in the distance, with its roots serving as a cage-like structure around the trunk itself. Even farther away, bamboo stalks intersected with uncut grass. With the beach just ahead, it was the kind of place that just married couples would choose as their honeymoon destination. How ironic it was, then, that nobody was filled with glee.

Caroline Forbes rubbed her pale wrist, attempting to get rid of the baby pink imprint those idiotic silver handcuffs had placed on her as she walked inside of the jungle curiously. The moment she'd crashed on the island, she'd felt a distinct urge to leave the beach. There were too many people there, and she didn't do so well around people. Perhaps that was the true reason why, then, she was always running. Always so afraid.

She pulled her fair blonde hair into a high ponytail. For most people this look would make them look casual, boring. However, something stood out about Caroline. Something had always stood out about Caroline. At the mere age of twenty-six, she was one of the most wanted people in her state. Until she was caught. She sat on a big Boulder, as she began to sniffle. Why had this happened to her, out of all people? Thousands of people were transported to prisons via airplane each year, and yet she was the one who crashed on an uninhabited island.

"You know, you looked so much better without that damn ponytail on. Makes you look like you aren't trying as hard. Unless, that's the look you're going for." Caroline crossed her arms against her chest, to see a dirty blonde haired man sporting a cocky grin while treading towards her. He's handsome. Very handsome, she noted. She then focused on her eyes, and saw that wasn't all that was to him. He was damaged. Even while smiling he looked in pain. He reminded Caroline a bit too much of herself.

A small smile crawled across her face, as she took in his southern accent that sounded not so far off from the ones she heard back home in Iowa. "I don't remember asking for your opinion. In fact, I don't remember asking you for anything."

"Well, freckles, you've got it. Mind if I call you freckles?"

"Actually yes, I do. My freckles are nobody's business but my own."

His own smile widened, and his face immediately showed signs of delight as he puffed on his cigarette. "Wow, you've sure got some sass. I like sass."

Caroline sighed. "Do you really think I haven't heard it before? Little Red Riding Hood? I know people like you. Big Bad Wolves who will say anything to get a girl. Sadly, I'm not like most girls."

She stood up, and walked towards the beach, leaving an amused Klaus Mikaelson by himself in the woods. "I'll take that as a challenge," he called out, as he scurried the other way, already knowing a shortcut that would get him back on the beach minutes before her.

Stefan Salvatore bolted across the glimmering littoral, focus showering his brain. He determinately reached the elderly woman, and pushed aside the honey haired boy with great strength. "You're doing it wrong", he explained gently. "Her head has be farther back or else you're just blowing air into her stomach."

The boy, Matthew Donovan, who couldn't be any older than twenty-four years old, shook his head skeptically. "Are you positive? I'm a lifeguard. I'm even licensed. I think I'd know-" He stopped talking. He knew that he was only wasting time, although he didn't want to risk his pride by admitting it out loud.

Stefan crossed his hands, and placed them on the woman's chest, immediately beginning his work. As the son of one of Los Angeles' most esteemed doctors, he was certainly more qualified for this kind of situation than a teenage little lifeguard at an opulent pool club was. Breath, breath, pump, pump, pump, breath...

"That's what I was doing!" Matt complained. When he was ignored by the doctor, he quickly brainstormed through his head for a way to do his part. "Hey, I was thinking. Maybe we should do one of those hole procedures they show on T.V. all the time, you know, where you stick a pen in her throat?"

Once again, irritation swept through Stefan. All this meddling child was doing was getting in the way. "Sure! What a great idea! Go find me one!" The kid, not sensing his sarcasm, sprinted into oblivion. Finally, thought Stefan. Peace.

He had chosen inopportune timing, considering what happened approximately one and a half seconds later. A loud, forceful whimper gathered the attention of every living soul within hearing distance, causing even the weakest of them to stare at its origin. Holy mother of God. The seventy-five foot wing pointed into the heavens. It took a break from swinging for a moment, reminding Stefan of a child's loose tooth that suddenly became stable the moment he or she decided to pull it out. He knew what happened to childrens' teeth, even though he himself had never gotten around to having one. Eventually, they came out.

Lying in the sand, somehow the only creatures left unaware of the hazardous situation, were Bonnie and Hurley. As dismay struck him from head to toe, Stefan worked harder at saving the woman. Pump. Pump. "Come on", he shouted, his voice growing wary. "Come on!"

As fuel sprayed from the wing, the woman's eyes clicked open. Gasping for breath, she whispered, "Bernard." Stefan quickly glanced at the ring on her finger, and then patted her on the back as if she was an old friend. Rose, her name was. He remembered her telling him on the airplane.

But now was not the time for remembrance. Now was the time for action. Out of breath, he sped over to Hurley and Bonnie, and shouted, "Get out of the way! It's going to fall!"

Hurley's deer-like eyes widened. "But you told us to stay here." Then, after looking up, a squeal came to his lips. "Oh shit. Move, Bonnie, Move!"

Stefan practically dragged the two of them into safety, just before the wing came crashing down with such velocity, that it felt like...

"The Flash." murmured Hurley, as the wing landed on a piece of fiery engine debris, causing a vast explosion and resulting in many fleeing the beach. "It came crashing down like The Flash."

Caroline hummed softly to herself as she hiked to the beach. She had never been to a beach before; small towns like her own were far from them. Here I am, she thought humorously, a criminal pushing through the tangled vines in the middle of nowhere while singing Drive Shaft songs. That ought to be-

Crunch, crack, swish, crunch,.

She froze, alarmed by the sound of rustling in the bushes. Although she was very well aware of the possibility of it only being a rabbit, she was only paying attention to the other possibility. Before her mother's dark days, she had once told her that that the best way to ward off a bear was to stand still, making no movement. However, running was her pollen, and she was the bee that couldn't resist it. She ran and ran and ran, just like Jack did after the giant caught him hovering in his mansion set in the clouds. Then, she stopped.

A man. He was handsome, just like the intriguing man she'd met in the forest, but in more of a ghostly way. He ripped off his torn jacket, and threw it onto the ground. This did not make him look more socially acceptable; for a thick cut lined his stomach. He stared at a piece of the plane, where the flirty southern man she'd met just a few moments before smoked another cigarette. "Excuse me."

Although skilled at running, Caroline wasn't as efficient at hiding. She revealed herself, signaling for him to continue talking. "Did you ever use a needle?"

Disoriented. Confused. About to cry. She was all of those things. "I…I sewed my mother a pillow once, in my high school art class."

"Would you mind… cleaning me up? I'd do it myself, being that I'm a doctor and all, but I can't reach it."

Caroline gaped, stricken with disbelief. "You want me to give you stitches?" She then saw how innocent he looked, how desperate he seemed, and sighed. "Fine."

He handed her a small bottle of alcohol, alongside a threaded needle. "You're going to have to sterilize the needle."

Her skin turned as white as snow, as she poured the bourbon onto the silver needle. You, can do this, Caroline. You've been through far worse than having to sew someone up. In fact, this might even be a positive change. Oh, who I am I kidding, what am I going to do? Okay. just think happy thoughts. Think about warm and fuzzy bunnies. "Bunnies," she said out loud, and suddenly broke into tears. Her tears served as a hurricane, splashing onto the dirt, converting it into mud. It was if all of those years of not crying, all of those years of holding it all in, had come back to haunt her.

Stefan's hand reached out to hers, but she politely rejected it. "I'm okay," she said, to convince herself more than him. "I just don't understand. How can you remain so calm, so unafraid? After all we've been through..."

"When I was in residency, my first solo procedure was a spinal surgery on a sixteen-year-old girl. At the end of it, I was sewing her up… and I accidentally ripped her dural sac. It's at the base of the spine, where all the nerves come together. Membrane as thin as tissue. So it ripped open - the nerves just spilled out like angel hair pasta- her spinal fluid flowing out and I just... froze. 'Cause I knew. If I didn't get those nerves back in that sack and sew it up... those thirteen hours were for nothing, that girl would be paralyzed. I had about a minute. And all the assistants were just watching me, I could feel their eyes. And the terror was so... crazy, so real... and I knew I had to deal with it. So I just made a choice. I'd let the fear in. Let it take over. Let it do its thing." He paused, to make sure she was still listening. "But only for five seconds. That's all I was gonna give it. So I started to count to five. One, two, three, four, five. And it was gone. I got back to work. Sewed her up. She was fine."

The hours passed by quickly, which was ironic considering the crash survivors were having anything but fun. Day turned into night, and alliances quickly formed among the diverse crowd. A handsome English rockstar named Jeremy sat next to Bonnie by the bonfire, while Hurley handed out peanuts and sandwiches from the plane to the passengers.

In the distance, Vicki Donovan sat on a purple towel, painting her toenails baby blue besides a smaller fire. Her older brother, Matt, sat close enough to guard her protectively, yet far enough to please her. After a moment of debate, he strolled over, and held out a chocolate bar. "You want it?"

Vicki looked up with surprise, and, for a second, delight. Then, she stuck up her perfect little nose, and said, "Like a plane crash is going to make me give up my vegan diet."

"Since when have you been a vegan? Come on, Vick. It's going to be a while."

"I can go a day without eating if I have to." Silence. "They have to. The plane had a black box, They're coming. I can feel it." She paused for another moment, and then laughed. "Hold on, let me guess. You don't think anyone is coming for us."

"Actually, I'm pretty sure they're not."

She looked into the distance, after placing the wet paint brush back into the bottle. "Why?"

Matt smirked. "Because you're so sure they are." This resulted in a slap in the face, and some name calling. In response, he muttered, "I may be an asshole, but I'm still utterly concerned for your survival, for reasons even I don't understand." He offered her the candy bar once again.

"I'll eat on the rescue boat." She went back to painting her nails, as Matt took a reluctant bite into the chocolate bar.

Meanwhile, Stefan and Caroline stood in the distance, using a piece of wreckage as a table. He held up a model airplane, floating it in the air as he mimicked the very plane they'd been on just a few hours beforehand. "It must have happened when at about 40,000 feet, when we hit a pocket of dead air. We dropped. It had to have been, say, 200 feet. Then turbulence followed, the worst I've ever experienced. But turbulence doesn't bring down a plane.

"So what does?"

"Electrical power went in and out... I'm pretty sure the hydraulics went out too. That must have lasted..."

"Five minutes," Caroline interrupted firmly. "Then there was a stress on the plane. That's when the tail broke away." The memory was painful to address, but someone had to do it.

Stefan snapped off the tail, causing her to flinch. She still didn't understand. Why was this man so incapable of expressing any emotion, of releasing his inner demons? "We went out of control. Dropping, flipping, spinning... I blacked out after that."

She looked away, and watched the cigarette yielding man take a piece of yellowing paper out of his pocket, read it, and then cautiously place it back where he retrieved it from. "I was conscious the whole time. I saw everything. Saw the bodies being ripped out of the airplane seats, felt the screams of fellow passengers echo in my ears. And then... then the front section came apart."

Swallowing her tears, she mumbled, "We crashed around five seconds later."

He put a hand on his new friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry. The front end of the fuselage isn't on the beach. Neither's the tail. I woke up about five hundred yards away from the beach... I must have fallen out. Anyway, we should probably-"

"MWWWWWWWOOOORRRRRRROOOOAAARRRRRROOOORRRRRRRRRRROOORRRRR"

A eardrum-popping, heart-pounding, horrific noise filled the air, causing Caroline to instinctively cover her ears. It was deafening; it sounded like what she'd imagined dinosaurs sounded like. After adjusting to the noise, she waited for Stefan to look up as well. The man from the forest ran over to them, followed by a whole group of people.

In that simple moment, it became clear that they weren't alone anymore. As the trees swished back and forth, and an unknown creature seemingly stomped throughout the forest, they huddled together, forming a protective shield around each other. When the noise settled down, Jeremy Gilbert addressed the crowd with a hushed whisper. "Terrific."