A/N: Contains violence, some sex, some swearing. Enjoy the story :)
Desmond Hume opened his eyes and let oxygen fill his lungs. He was still alive. He was bruised, bloodied and his consciousness was dangerously disoriented, but he was alive.
"Hugo…" called a familiar voice slowly; it belonged to Benjamin Linus. Ben's large companion, Hugo 'Hurley' Reyes rushed over to his side. "He's awake."
"Dude, are you okay?" asked Hurley.
Desmond did not answer. He was staring curiously at the bright green tree branches above him, waving slowly, almost in a rhythm, in the gentle breeze of a cool wind. Hurley leaned over him, he seemed worried. "Desmond!"
"…Water," croaked the thoroughly exhausted Scotsman, finally returning to reality. Ben passed a dirtied Oceanic Airlines water bottle to Hurley, who wasted no time in filling it with the fresh, clear water from the flowing stream by his side, just as Jack Shephard had done only 30 minutes earlier. Desmond gulped down the water immediately and once done, let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks brotha," he said, sitting up slowly. His back and neck were causing him to feel an aching pain.
"What happened down there?" asked Ben. Desmond strained to recall what exactly had happened at the bottom of the waterfall inside the nearby cave, at the heart of The Island itself. He glanced at the cave's small entrance a few feet away, where the bright light of The Island's powers had previously shone. It was once again radiating a golden glow, confirming what Desmond had hoped.
"By the looks of it, Jack saved The Island." He said firmly with a relieved grin.
Suddenly there was a turbulent noise in the sky, causing the trio to jump. For a moment they thought that danger was afoot once more, and that The Island was again moments from destruction. But looking to the heavens, they saw that it was in fact a plane flying overhead, the plane they recognised as Ajira flight 316.
Claire Littleton was leaning on the shoulder of the woman she believed to be her best and only friend, Kate Austen. As Claire snored softly, Kate's eyes, which were aching from all the tears she had shed that day, remained fixed on The Island through the thick, grimy glass of the plane window. Jack was still down there somewhere, but whether he was alive or not, she could not know for sure. He had looked worse for wear when she had last seen him, and that image of him bleeding from his side did not bode well in the slightest.
"You okay?" said a rough yet hushed voice. Kate jumped and Claire shifted in her sleep. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." It was Sawyer. He was standing by Kate's seat, looking concerned.
"I'm fine." She told him, wiping her face with her free arm. He studied her for a moment but did not know what else to say and so began to leave.
"What are you going to do, James?" Kate asked. "When we get back?"
Good question, he thought to himself. The truth was that he felt more doomed in this moment than he'd ever felt on that island underneath them. Jacob himself had told them all that they'd been there thanks to their flaws, that's why he'd chosen them. A place for the damaged. Which meant for once in his life, James Ford had been as close as he'd ever been to fitting in; a broken man amongst broken people. Out there in the real world, he'd be the one of only a few. How could he have dreamed about going back, when now he realised, there was nothing there for him?
Almost nothing, a small voice reminded him, almost nothing.
He sighed. What are you going to do, James? His mind echoed the question.
"…I don't know."
Kate smiled. She had always appreciated honesty, even when blunt, and despite having trouble knowing when to use it herself.
"What?" he asked her, wondering what positivity she found in such a terrifying admission.
"I'm glad I'm not the only one." She replied simply.
Miles Straume, who was sitting a couple of rows away, unstrapped himself from his seat and walked down the plane aisle until he reached the cabin, where their pilot, Frank Lapidus was sitting, keeping a weary eye on all the controls.
"Hey Frank?"
"What's the matter Miles?" he spoke quickly with a hint of annoyance, clearly disturbed by the prospect of a distracting conversation.
"I was just wondering how far you'd thought this through exactly."
"What do you mean?" asked the pilot.
"I mean, where are we going to land for example?"
"I'm ain't quite sure about that yet," Frank replied, more relaxed than before, "but we've probably got enough fuel to get to Guam. And this plane was heading there in the first place anyway so we should make it."
"How poetic. Well I just wanted to check, you know. Before I got my hopes up." Frank nodded to show he understood.
"I get it, Miles. But don't worry, we're gonna make it this time. It's over now."
Richard Alpert meanwhile, was watching The Island which had been his prison for countless decades, disappear into the distance. He had never been completely confined to it; in fact on the contrary, the various jobs and missions Jacob had sent him on over the years had taken him all over the globe. However, now that Jacob was no more, he felt as if he was leaving for the first time. Freedom was an emotion he had not felt before, but he had fallen in love with the concept of liberty the moment 316 had left the ground that day. And no-one could take that away from him now.
Back on The Island, Rose and Bernard Nadler were pottering about, fixing the wooden shelves of their homely cabin which had partially collapsed during the chaos that had occurred earlier on. While Rose tied together some wood to hold the structure together, Bernard suddenly looked up from what they were doing and scanned the clearing.
"Have you seen Vincent?" he asked, getting worried. He had not seen the dog since before the storm.
"I think he went off in that direction, honey." His wife replied, pointing into the bamboo forest nearby, she did not seem to be as bothered, after all, Vincent rarely stayed by the cabin for very long during the daytime. Besides, the dog had lived through the crash of 815, the war against the others, the time flashes and would always escape polar bears in the jungle with ease. Vincent was one dog with a stunning knack for endurance.
Bernard could not just wait and do nothing though, he had to be sure. And so he headed in the direction that Rose was pointing in and started calling out for the dog.
"Vincent? Come on boy, over here…" After a minute or so the golden Labrador emerged from the trees, tongue hanging out happily, panting excitedly, as always. Bernard grinned at the sight of him. "Good boy, that's it," but Vincent suddenly turned and ran off again. "Wait! Vincent!" He ran after the dog, acquiring small scrapes from out-sticking branches, passing a tree from which a white tennis shoe was hanging. Soon he came out into a very small clearing, where he stopped for breath, hands on his knees.
The body of a man lay motionless on the ground in the centre, pale and partly covered in dry blood. Vincent pulled at the man's trouser leg, trying to wake him up. But he kept still. His eyes were closed; it was just as if he was in a deep sleep...
This man was Jack Shephard.
That evening Desmond, Hurley and Ben, who had come to check on Rose and Bernard, gathered with the middle-aged couple around a hole in the ground which had been dug out especially to hold Jack's body. Hurley and Bernard had lowered him in and they now stood over him with the others.
"Hugo, would you like to say a few words?" said Ben, "I believe you knew Jack somewhat better than us."
"All of us should say something." Hurley told him. "He needs to hear from each of us… But yeah, I'll go first."
Ben nodded. Hurley stepped forward and thought for a moment about what he was going to say. In those few seconds, there seemed to be utter silence as he picked the most fitting words for the funeral.
"I first met Jack on the day of the crash. He saved me and Claire from when the plane wing fell down and he saved a whole bunch of other people.
When Boone swam out in the ocean to save Joanne, he almost died. But Jack brought him back, safe and sound. Jack still wasn't happy though, because he hadn't rescued Joanne. It wasn't enough.
He wanted to save everyone. He found us water and he was our leader and he was always the one fixing things.
Sure, he totally tried to nuke The Island, but when that didn't work, he saved it from the monster." He was now crying even more than he had done when Jack had said his goodbye. He paused. He had never been much good with words.
"He was an awesome friend. And the last thing… the last thing he told me… was that I should protect the island. And that he believed in me."
As the evening went on, each person spoke in turn of how Jack Shephard had affected their lives.
Ben recalled the life-saving spinal surgery, which Jack had performed on him after being captured by the Island's natives known as 'the Others'. Desmond spoke of more recent events involving details of how Jack had replaced the cork of The Island, thereby saving the lives of everyone on it.
Rose started off by talking about her life being saved by Jack on the day of the crash and went on to describe the development of Jack's faith.
Bernard finished off the ceremony by saying that Jack had been a noble leader and how he wished he had known him better, by which time, the sun was seen setting through the trees. The rest of the night was spent burying Jack. His story was finally over. He was in another place now, a blissful place surrounded by all the people he cared about…
A/N: This story is itself an adventure, but also aims to tie up some loose ends left by the show. Hope you like it so far, feel free to drop a review :)