TITLE: Fading Reality
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: Sayid is no longer able to tell dreams from reality.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the characters from Lost and am not making a profit. If they were mine, then there would be more Shayid moments.
Sayid rushed forward. Faster and faster he ran. He needed to get away. Tree branches scraped against his arms as the trees seemed to bend as if reaching out its arms to grab him. Whispers surrounded him. He spun once, twice. Where were they coming from? Another branch wrapped around his wrist like bony fingers. He ripped his arm away, stumbling over a root.
He collapsed against the tree. His body could not take another step. He needed to rest, but resting only brought the pain back. When he was walking he could pretend it never happened. He could pretend that the whispers were just the wind. But as soon as he sat down, he could hear them clearer. The loudest of all was her voice. He closed his eyes tightly, as he placed his hands over his ears. He knew it could not be her. He had watched her die.
His Shannon was dead. He had not been able to protect her. She had been frightened by her vision of Walt, and Sayid had done nothing. It was his fault that she was gone. He still could remember it as if it had happened moments ago, instead of days. Or was it weeks? He could still hear her screams, could still see the blood, could still feel the panic rising in his chest as he realized he had never told her he loved her and now never could.
"Sayid!" Shannon's voice echoed through the jungle.
His eyes shot open. His hands grew sweaty as his heart started pounding. Why did she keep calling him? There was nothing he could do. He heard her everywhere. Sometimes he even saw her. He told himself it was impossible, but a part of him wondered if maybe he had left the camp too soon. Maybe she really had survived.
He took five deep breaths hoping that counting would help. Maybe she really had survived. But that was impossible. He had cradled her lifeless body. Yet still he wondered if he should turn back and find out. The memories were all a blur now, mixing with the dreams. He was no longer sure what happened what did not.
He remembered clearly that he had been talking with Hurley about the hatch, when he heard her screams. Sayid felt like he could not breathe as he suddenly realized that he had not seen Shannon all morning. He rushed to where Jack stood, by the waterfall (or was it the beach?) over a broken body. Sayid had fallen to his knees when he saw the blond hair streaked with blood. He knew without a doubt that it was his Shannon.
Sayid remembered watching Jack pounding on Shannon's chest. Remembered hearing the snap of her ribs. He had tried to move away but the sound vibrated through his body and he could not forget the way it sounded. He remembered that nothing happened. Shannon was no longer moving. He remembered the way the sand around her had darkened with her blood, as he stood by helplessly. Jack turned to him in agony. She was already dead when they brought her to him.Sayid sank down into the sand next to her. He ran his fingers along her face. She looked as if she was sleeping. He had kissed her lips, like in a fairy tale. She had kissed him back. She had run her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer.
He startled. She could not have kissed him back. That could not have happened. Did it happen? Or was it the dream?
Sayid had been there when Jack told him that Shannon was gone. But why did he now remember Jack telling him that Shannon just needed rest, and the next few days would tell them if she would make it? Why could he see Shannon's tired but smiling face looking up at him as he held her hand in his?
He held his head in his hands. He could not do this any longer. He had seen her still body; why did he now see her chest rise and fall with breath? What was real and what was the dream? He did not know any more.
Suddenly, he felt hands on his, pulling them away from his face.
"Why are you running?" Shannon asked as she straddled his legs.
Sayid pulled his hands away from her, and traced the scars on her face. He did not remember how she got them. Were they there when he held her? They looked deep and painful. He was surprised they had not gotten infected.
"You are not real," he whispered.
Her chest heaved as she sighed. "Why do you keep saying that?" she asked with a smile.
She leaned forward and kissed him. He closed his eyes. How he missed her. She wrapped her arms around his neck. He could almost believe this was real.
"Could I do that if I wasn't real?" Shannon asked. "I can do much more, especially if you find some rope."
For a moment he remembered that conversation so long ago, remembered the longing that she had stirred in him, the longing he was feeling once again.
"You can not be here, Shannon."
"Why?" her eyes hardened. "You don't want me?"
She moved back from him. He grabbed her hand.
"I saw you die."
She laughed, her eyes dancing. "Have you been snorting Charlie's heroin?"
Maybe Shannon's death had been the dream. She was here now. He could touch her. He was a man who believed in science. If Shannon was dead, how could she be standing in front of him, how could she be kissing him?
She kissed him again, then stood.
"Where are you going?" Sayid asked helplessly. He knew she would leave, but there was nothing he could do. He was paralyzed by the whispers all around.
"To find some rope," she said, her eyes sparking.
She disappeared before his eyes. He stared at where she had just stood. How had she moved that quickly? Where did she go? Was that the dream?
He closed his eyes again, focusing on the whispers. He could still hear her. Some times she was crying out in pain, others she was asking for the rope. It was such a mixture that he no longer knew what to believe or what to think.
He stood shakily. He knew what he had to do. He would go deeper into the jungle to find out. Whether she was alive or not, it no longer mattered. He was losing his mind. The not knowing was slowly killing him.
"Sayid!" Shannon screamed again. "Don't leave me!"
It did not matter if she was alive or not. Either, way his life was no longer worth living. If Shannon was dead, his hope for the future was dead too. But if he were a victim of the sickness, then it would just hurt her in the end if she were alive. Either case, it was hopeless.
Sayid pulled the gun from his waistband. It felt heavy in his hands, just as his heart felt heavy. Amid the whispers and fingers from the trees grabbing at him, he walked further into the jungle, hoping to find some peace.
The End