A/N: This fic was inspired by a dream Liesbeth had. I hope she enjoys it even though it ripped my heart out to write it!

Disclaimer: Don't own Lost and the characters.

In a dark night, when the light
burning was the burning of love (fortuitous
night, fated, free,--)
as I stole from my dark house, dark
house that was silent, grave, sleeping,--

by the staircase that was secret, hidden,
safe: disguised by darkness (fortuitous
night, fated, free,--)
by darkness and by cunning, dark
house that was silent, grave, sleeping--;

in that sweet night, secret, seen by
no one and seeing
nothing, my only light or
guide
the burning in my burning heart,

night was the guide
to the place where he for whom I
waited, whom I had long ago chosen,
waits: night
brighter than noon, in which none can see--;

night was the guide
sweeter than the sun raw at
dawn, for there the burning bridegroom is
bride
and he who chose at last is chosen.

As he lay sleeping on my sleepless
breast, kept from the beginning for him
alone, lying on the gift I gave
as the restless
fragrant cedars moved the restless winds,--

winds from the circling parapet circling
us as I lay there touching and lifting his hair,--
with his sovereign hand, he
wounded my neck-
and my senses, when they touched that, touched nothing...

In a dark night (there where I
lost myself,--) as I leaned to rest
in his smooth white breast, everything
ceased
and left me, forgotten in the grave of forgotten lilies.

--Dark Night, Frank Bidart

It's funny how long forgotten memories sometimes float to the surface, even the ones that may have influenced us the most in our lives. A scar long ago faded still tells a story, even if the wound no longer hurts, even if the memory of the pain remains hazy at best.

It's funny how life can change in the blink of an eye and yet still give us those moments where time seems to stop. When all there is is you and this other person and everything else just sort of fades away.

It's funny how something as small as hope can shine as bright as a lighthouse in a storm, promising shelter and a reason to go on, when before all there was was darkness.

People always say love is blind, but in my experience, love is what opened up my eyes for the first time. It takes time to adjust to the brightness, but once you do, what you see is so beautiful, you never want to close them again.

There is always a light in the darkness, and all it took was one man to give me the eyes to see.

Yes, yes, I remember….

This is one memory I'll never be able to forget.

Back when my dad was stationed in Washington and my mom was still willing to let me go out there to visit him, we would spend whole weekends camping, tracking, fishing, and just enjoying the quiet beauty of the forest. The summer I was thirteen, we were tracking some deer when we came upon the tracks of a man as well. A light rain began to fall, washing away the clear path that we had come across as we followed the tracks. My dad suddenly stopped moving and as I looked down, I saw the water pooling at my feet turn a dark crimson red, trickling like little streams around my boots. Stepping forward, I saw a young buck, his side heaving from his strained breathing, and the hole in his body where the bullet had pierced him pulsing as the blood flowed out of him.

I rushed forward and fell to my knees beside him, oblivious to my father's calls to keep my distance. A frightened and injured buck could easily cause me harm, but there was something about this creature that drew me in; a connection I couldn't deny.

"Why did the hunter leave it here?" I asked my father, my voice betraying the tears that were about to fall.

My father, his eyes still roaming the earth around him, began to follow what I thought might be left of a trail. "He was protecting someone else."

My father spoke barely above a whisper, but his words carried to me despite the wind and rain, weighing down on me like a ton of bricks. My throat constricted, and I swallowed hard to breathe, to push back the tears.

"What?" I said, getting up slowly to look at the barely visible trail.

"Look here, you can still see the tracks. The hunter followed the other animal, but I think it got away."

I glanced back to the deer lying there as the rain continued to fall. His eyelids fluttered as he strained to keep them open, but I could see his eyes trained steadily on me. They were filled with purpose, and though you would have expected him to be scared, instead he looked almost at peace. Once again I felt that weird connection with him, as if I had known him in another life, as if our spirits were intertwined in some cosmic destiny. I didn't even believe in those things, but as I looked at this deer, and he looked back at me, I couldn't stop the tears from falling. When the deer's eyes fluttered for the last time, and he took one last shaky breath, I could almost see him nod at me, as if to tell me it was alright. Later, I would blame it on a trick of the light or the fact that I couldn't see clearly because of the tears, but thinking back on it now, I know that deer and I understood each other. We would both sacrifice for the ones we loved.

"It just isn't fair." I remember saying, my hand stroking the buck's rough fur.

"Life rarely is." My dad said bitterly. When I looked at him, his eyes flashed with anger for a brief second as he looked off into the distance. I think if a bomb had gone off, he wouldn't have heard it; he was far away from me in that moment, some place I couldn't yet understand. It would take me about ten more years to figure out what he was thinking about that day.

As the rain began to fall harder, and the ribbons of blood flowing from the animal began to stain my hands dark red, I looked to the sky and asked, "Do you think the sky is crying for him?"

"Yeah…yeah, I do." My dad said, his voice trembling.

To this day, I've only seen my dad cry twice – that day I came to him in his office when I was on the run and the day we watched that deer die. I think to him, a little bit of humanity died with that deer.

We saw goodness and weakness on that day. Sacrifice and greed. Love and want. I remember thinking how ironic it was that an animal could have more courage and compassion than any human I had ever met.

In junior high, I got really into Greek mythology. There was something about the stories. I guess it was that they didn't always end happily. Life wasn't a fairy tale, so why should fiction be? But there was one story that always made me laugh because of how ridiculous it was - Pandora and her box. The lesson behind it was completely believable; humans are weak. Give them a box and they're going to open it; give them a challenge, they are going to run from it. After that day with the deer, I realized why it was so absurd. It was the argument that hope still resided in that box, that it existed in the human soul. I never felt that uplifting of spirit; I never saw that glimmer of light.

That is until the day I met Jack Shephard. I saw courage and compassion. I saw a light amongst the darkness. I learned to believe in hope.

This is our story.

It was eight months after the end of the war that I gave birth to a baby boy. We named him Joshua, meaning 'God rescues' because in the end, we were all saved from the darkness that had threatened to swallow us. In the war for the island, many were lost. Juliet was gone and Sawyer, who never quite got over her death, fought bravely, yet recklessly, until he one day he was just too reckless. It was like losing Tom all over again; I had loved him once and my heart still remembered. I visit his grave every day.

Jack and I set up camp in the caves with the rest of us who remained – Hurley, Claire, Sun, and Jin. Miles had remained in the 70s after the flash, and Sayid bled to death before Jack had even dropped the bomb. It was a peaceful life now. Jack had managed to kill Locke, or the man posing as him, and after that the war was just over. The Others left us alone, the Smoke Monster was never seen; life just seemed quiet. We were still hoping for rescue, but we were happy.

Jack and I spent most of our time with our son. It felt good to say those words, our son. A perfect little giggling boy with a toothless grin that could shine as bright as the sun in my eyes. Already he had freckles sprinkled across his nose, and dark hazel eyes that matched his father's, eyes that seemed to hold so much in their depths. I could see the universe in those eyes if I looked long enough; there was so much to see and so much I wanted to know. Motherhood was all I had ever dreamt it to be and more.

One day, Jack went off in search of the package that had been dropped the night before and that carried all the Dharma food. We were still receiving drops, from what we had no idea, because we never heard or saw a plane.

It was a day like any other, until it wasn't.

A couple of hours after he left, I could just tell something was wrong. My dad had this expression for it; "Felt like a goose just walked over my grave", he used to say. Chills ran through my body and my blood ran cold. "Jack…" I breathed, as I took off in the direction he had left.

When I found him, it was like I was suffocating. Water was flooding into my lungs, my throat, was slowly trickling down my cheeks. He was lying in the hole where the hatch had been, a stray pipe sticking sharply though his ribcage, right where I had sewn him up on the day we first met, a puddle of blood pooling underneath him.

I climbed down, barely comprehending what I was doing, focusing only on him and praying that this was all a dream, that I would just wake up.

"Jack, what happened?" I said, choking back sobs, cupping his face with my hands. His eyes were going in and out of focus, but I knew he could still see and hear who I was because he reached up with his hand to stroke my cheek. I leaned down closer, as he struggled to tell me what had happened. "The Smoke Monster….he was….coming for camp….I saw in it….I saw Joshua…I couldn't let it take him."

My eyes brimmed over with so many tears that I could hardly see, but it was then that I remembered that deer from so many years before, and I realized that there was still some goodness in this world. There were heroes; there were men willing to give of themselves for the sake of others; there was hope, and like a candle in a breeze, it flickered in and out, but I was protecting it with all my might.

"I'm gonna go get help." I said, wiping the tears from eyes. I made a move to get up, but he grabbed my wrist weakly.

"Please, don't go." He whispered, a stray tear trailing down his cheek. I kneeled down beside him, in my heart knowing this was the end. His skin was already losing its pallor, he could barely keep his eyes open, but the flame within me still had not been vanquished. "I'll fix you. I'll fix you…" I murmured as I stroked his hair.

"You already did." He said, a small smile upon his lips.

We sat there in silence for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. I could still see the universe there, a place of possibility and hope, and the small flame grew into a fire as I thought about how much our short time together had changed me. "You fixed me too." My voice cracking, as I fought back my sobs.

"Remember when you stitched me up?" He said, and despite everything I laughed at the memory. My face crumpled as I looked back to him, so he reached up his hand, drawing his thumb along by bottom lip.

I reached down to kiss him, pouring my soul into that small moment that was to be our forever. Time was lost for a moment, suspended, and I floated to heaven on a cloud of ecstasy. I saw our whole life play out before me. Growing old together, seeing Joshua as a man; I saw the life that we would no longer have.

When I pulled away, I rested my forehead on his. "From that moment, it has always been you." I breathed, letting his swallow breaths mix with my steady ones, as if we were breathing as one.

His eyes sparkled for the briefest of seconds, and then lost all of their luster and life. He was gone, and that's when I dissolved into sobs. The rain came pouring down, each droplet seeming to burn my flesh like acid as I beat on his chest. "Come back!" I screamed, until I was too hoarse to scream anymore.

We buried him a day later, a small service. A light rain had fallen steadily throughout the night and into the morning, soaking everything though and through. I remember every drop. Like the tick of a clock, it marked the distance between him and me. Life was unfair, but as the sun broke through the clouds, I remembered what we had had, and I knew I wouldn't have changed a single second of it. With Joshua's soft breathes against my cheek, I knew I could go on.

Hope was on the horizon.

So hopefully I didn't make anyone too upset. I have something much more light hearted and happy coming up to make up for this ;) Please Review! :D