(This is set just before Jack, Kate, and Sawyer were taken by the Others. My timeline is a bit slower than the show's, and it doesn't follow any real timeline for any character besides Claire.

Oh and by the way, I feel the need to point out a few things. The fact that Juliet had some kind of implant in Claire that made her sick so that Juliet had to inject something into her is PURELY coincidental. I had no idea that they were going to do that. I don't spy on the writers in their studies.

I'll put the original writing dates on every chapter. This one was written in the beginning of October, 2006 and edited for fanfiction. net /a in February and March of 2008. The storyline has not been changed; it has simply been fixed to be more readable.

The basic idea is that Claire was really sick for a while and not really getting better, so Jack made her stay in the Hatch until he could figure out what was wrong. The obvious answer was the vaccine that Charlie had given Claire earlier. Only in this story, the Others had managed to get a single different kind of vaccine to Claire that was absolutely meant for her. Jack tried it on himself before he let Claire use it, and the only immediate effect it had on him was to make him feel better than he had in years. So needless to say, Claire was finally getting better—but Jack still insisted that she stay in the hatch for various reasons that made sense at the time.

This story starts one night when she's still in the hatch, almost totally recovered.)

Ava, Ava, Ava… I need to get out of here. I can't begin to tell you how tired I am of seeing this room all day. They won't let me explore the hatch, and I'm not even supposed to leave without an escort. Like I'm going to pass out again… I'm not. I'm fine, really, I am. What could anyone possibly have against me stepping ten feet outside the hatch?

"Good God," Claire muttered, putting her pen down for a moment "I can't believe I'm actually arguing with someone who can't talk back. This is rediculous..."

It wasn't like she had a choice though; no one else would listen to her, because whatever Jack said went without question. At least as long as medicine was involved.

She could argue with Ava because she knew what her sister would say... if she was here.

The repeated droning tick, tock from the clock on the wall was the only sound in the room, and it was mind-numbing. Her eyes began to grow heavy as she stared at the half empty page on her diary. If she didn't finish this now then it would have to wait until tomorrow. Claire forced herself to concentrate; she put her pen back to the paper and began to finish her entry.

I'm going to do it. I'm getting outside, even if it's only for a few minutes. I think I've figured out the best time to try…. I guess we'll see though, won't we. In the meantime, I'm taking a nap. I'll let you know how it works out later.

Claire closed her diary and carefully slipped it into her backpack. She glanced at the clock on the wall, wishing for the hundredth time that it could be digital so that it would at least be silent. She had exactly an hour to sleep, if she could actually get to sleep. The siren (she didn't know what else to call it) would go off in a little over an hour. Her plan was to get out before John had to punch buttons on the computer and, as always, timing was everything.

Unfortunately, falling asleep would be the easy part. Claire hated to admit it, but she still felt rather weak at times. She told herself that it was probably from worrying too much. She worried about everything, though she usually didn't show it.

As though on cue, Aaron moaned in his sleep. Claire heard him across the hall and went to check on him. Once satisfied that he was alright, she went back to her room and finally forced herself to sleep. Her body wanted to, but her mind did not.

Claire had set a mental alarm clock, but was surprised when she actually woke up an hour later. Apparently they worked after all. She got up, stretched, and grabbed a sweater that was hanging on the back of a chair as she went to leave the room. She was pulling the garment over her head as she reached the door.

This station didn't seem to be as big as the one she had been held at when Ethan was still around, but the layouts were similar enough. She managed to find her way to the computer room without having to ask for directions.

"John," she called as she walked into the room "you in here?"

Her voice sounded strange as it echoed off the walls. There was no answer. She tried again. "John?" This time she saw him when she looked around. He was thoroughly engrossed in a book—he didn't even look up when she was standing in front of him.

"What is it, Claire?" Locke asked, still reading, He almost sounded mechanical, but there was also a touch of annoyance to his tone that made her feel like a trespassing child. She wasn't a child and of course she wasn't trespassing. It wasn't like he owned the place on any account. But he did, in a way. He was very protective and didn't really like having anyone else man the computer. He had discovered this station and now felt that it was his personal responsibility to do whatever it was that the people before him had done.

Still, he had no right to treat her like she was invisible, like she didn't belong.

"The light in here is awful for reading," she said dryly "you should be worrying about your eyesight."

"You came to give me a lecture?" He still wouldn't look at her "Go back to your room. The light in this room is fine." It wasn't.

"I came to tell you that I'm leaving." Claire said, getting to the point. She finally had his attention, he wasn't reading anymore. "Well, not leaving-leaving, just stepping outside for a few minutes. I might walk around for a little, but I won't go far."

"Claire, Jack said--" Locke couldn't finish his sentence, she cut him off.

"Don't tell me what Jack said!" she snapped, her temper getting the better of her. "Since when does his opinion matter to you anyway?"

She knew it didn't. But it was his argument, the best one he had against her. It wasn't going to work, and the sooner he saw that the better.

"I'm not asking for your permission, John. I'm telling you: I'm leaving. I'll be back in here, twenty minutes tops."

Claire unclenched her fists and remembered to breathe. She hadn't realized that her hands were clenched until they began to hurt. "I know what Jack said," she began more calmly "but I also know what I need. He isn't always right." Everyone always thought he was--well, almost everyone. He had given them plenty good reason to, so far.

She was waiting for the verdict. She didn't know why, but she was.

"Okay." Locke finally said. "Okay. Twenty minutes, Claire. Go wander around, but stay in sight of the hatch." Twenty minutes would get her off his back, he thought. As long as she stayed close by nothing was going to happen.

Claire didn't thank him—that would have been admitting that she wanted his permission when she really didn't. She simply nodded and left the room.

Hurley was in the kitchen scoping out the refrigerator and the cupboards. He wanted to know how much room he had in the kitchen for the food that was in the pantry. He had asked Claire if she wanted to help him with it earlier and she had declined. She felt bad, knowing that he was only trying to include her--something that others were less inclined to do. Especially now.

"Morning, Hurley," Claire said lightly, stepping to the refrigerator, "Making progress?"

It was later in the afternoon, but she hoped he didn't notice. Not that it mattered, it was all just a distraction, anyway.

"Uh... good morning?" Hurley turned and stared at her. Something in her voice threw him off, it just wasn't right--and it certainly wasn't "morning", either. "What are you doing?" He asked, forgetting to answer her own question.

Claire had taken a bottle of water and a banana and was now heading for the door.

"I'm just going for a little walk, Hurley. Nothing to worry about." she answered, keeping her voice bright as she reached the door. She wasn't about to turn back now.

"Dude, should you be doing that?" Hurley took two uncertain steps toward her. "I mean, I thought Jack said--"

"Never mind what Jack said!" Claire spun to face him, glaring daggers in his direction "It doesn't matter. I'm walking out this door, and no one is going to stop me!"

She almost stomped her foot in frustration as she pushed the crash bar and opened the door. Claire opened her mouth to say something more, and then decided against it as John's voice came from down the hall,

"It's alright, Hugo, let her go."

Hurley stepped back, still clearly confused. He was sure that this wasn't the right decision, but what was he going to do? What would Charlie say if something happened to her? What would everyone think? He stopped himself. Nothing's gonna happen, she'll be fine. "Nothing's gonna happen." He repeated as Claire disappeared out the door.

Claire walked quickly and didn't once look back. There was such a freedom in the air, she could feel it as she walked along, humming cheerfully as she went.
She went on through the jungle until she realized that she had gone farther and longer than she intended. Sighing, Claire cracked the seal on the bottle and took a long drink.

On one hand, she'd have to hurry if she was going to get back before it got too dark to see--she hadn't marked her trail at all, and her sense of direction wasn't something she was too proud of. On the other hand though, she wasn't really in a hurry. Scripting her apology to Hurley wasn't exactly something to look forward to, either.

Something in the shrub started moving nearby and caught Claire's attention. She stopped immediately, watching the motion. Images of polar bears and creepy monsters flashed in her mind and she shivered, shaking them off.

"V-Vincent?" she called instinctively, "is that you?"

The yellow lab was forever showing up in places that he was least expected to be... maybe he had followed her.

"C'mon boy, come here." Claire called, relieved when the dog came up from behind the green. "You shouldn't go around scaring people like that. At least bark or something so we know it's you." She spoke to him as though he understood her, and perhaps he did because he barked once or twice as she scratched him behind the ears.

"Would you like to tag along? I wouldn't mind the company."

Vincent barked again and took off running through the jungle.

"Guess not." Claire muttered quietly. "That dog was extremely clean for all the--what the hell?!"

Someone had thrown a sack over her head and someone else was quickly tying up her hands.

Claire's first instinct was to scream, but one of them clapped a hand over her mouth through the sack and whispered in her ear "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

She stopped and nodded, realizing that whoever was talking had a gun to her back.

The hand released her head and moved to her arm and pushed a little, forcing her to walk.

"Who-who are you?"

Claire asked feebly as she stumbled along.

"Jest hush up and walk, ma'am. We don't have the answers to your questions." One of them said as the barrel of the gun was nudged a little as a warning.

Claire couldn't walk any farther though. She was still weak from being ill and the strain and stress now were too much--she fainted.

"Bloody hell," one complained, "we'll have to carry her."

"Oh hush up and help," said the other, "This was your idea in the first place."

Still grumbling they picked her up and carried her several miles until they reached their destination.