Hi to all who have been awesome followers to this story so far! I had put this on hiatus what feels like forever ago, because I just wasn't happy with it. I feel like my writing style had evolved and I wasn't connecting with Ava anymore, and felt like my lovely Elliot and Sayid deserved better. I've finally had the time to do some rewrites in a different POV, with a new character, so I hope everyone will stick with me and if not thanks for sticking with the old story anyway!

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing.

Prologue:

So this is hell.

The thought came to Elliot calmly, curiously, floating in on a gentle mist. She regarded the scene around her almost passionlessly, roaming eyes taking in the rotting branches twisting around her feet.

Interesting. She expected more fire and brimstone, if anything.

She stepped forward and filtered screams made their way to her ears, piercing her already throbbing brain. She started walking faster, feet sinking into deep dirt and mud. Screams made sense. Screams were associated with hell.

"Help!" someone shouted, and her breath stuttered as she stopped just clear of the edge of the trees.

A beach. A sandy floor, debris littered and shining. A great engine is sputtering to a stop near the clear blue water, and it is like she is dreaming. This cannot be real. People are everywhere, some lying eyes closed and sand scattering their clothing, some sporting various injuries clotted with blood. One woman is screaming at the top of her lungs, and Elliot winces, fighting off the sudden urge to scream right back.

"Dude, are you okay? Your arm is dripping blood!" a large man with curly hair and a kind (too kind) face calls over to her.

She purses her lips, eyes snapping from the man and his blonde, pregnant companion to her own arm, which, yes, is dripping blood. Interesting, again.

She can feel the slight sting now, and touches the wound cautiously, shrugging when the man repeats his question.

"What happened?" she asks instead, because she doesn't like to not know. She is used to being the one and only person in the know, not the one and only person outside of it. It makes her feel woozy.

"Our plane crashed," the man stares at her with wide, bemused eyes. "Are you-"

But Elliot doesn't hear him anymore. One word is running through her mind on a speeding train, pounding at her skull until she wants to keel over and be sick.

Finn.

Her eyes search for the familiar pale skin pale hair pale lips, desperate and quick even though she holds herself frozen and stony. And...there. There he is, sitting next to a man with cuts on his cheek and beneath the shadow of one with coffee light skin.

She walks briskly over to them, the whole time his name a chant, a prayer in her head. He's alive. And so is she. So everything will be fine.

The moment his eyes alight on her, he breaks into a dashingly white toothed grin, pale hand coming up to wiggle their fingers in a wave. She does not show that she was worried, and neither does he.

Until he glances at her arm, and raises an eyebrow, and remarks, "You're bleeding."

Her brow furrows in momentary confusion before the slight pain comes back to her, and touches one of her own pale fingers to the sticky blood. "I'm fine. Are you alright?"

Her english accent stands out in stark contrast to his American one, but it is clear to anyone that they are a pair, one and the same.

"These two seem to think I've gone into shock," Finn snorts, and Elliot bares her teeth back at him.

"I don't think you seem to grasp the extent of the situation. People die when they go into shock. We can't just let you-" the scruffy man beside Finn starts up for, judging from the roll of the boys eyes, not the first time.

"I'm fine, seriously. Not everyone fucking freaks out like whats-her-name," he snarks at the man, gesturing to the screaming girl.

The man sighs, looks up at the darker skinned one, who is staring with narrowed eyes at the two teens.

Elliot stares back for a moment, but it's long enough. His dark eyes, dark as the forest she emerged from, catch on her blue ones, blue as the ocean they bracket, and then they tear their gazes away.

"Fine. If you're sure. Call me if you feel yourself shutting down, though," the other man sighs, stands, towers. "I'm Jack, if you need me."

When Elliot looks back towards the other man again dark eyes dark room dark face he is already gone.

She crumples gracefully next to Finn, fingers digging into the warm sand. "So?"

"So," he replies, and they sit, together, watching the world before them go up in flames.