Lonely No More

Chapter Two

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Some swearing, minor character death (don't worry, it's not Des!).

A/N: Sorry if I really messed up the French that I put in here. I basically got it off of an English to French dictionary so it could be wrong.

There was a terrible silence that had crept its way over the group. Only the tail section survivors seemed in the dark as to what was going on. The girl, Alex, was now looking around at her surroundings, holding on still to Desmond's hand. She did not look afraid so much as curious.

"That's not possible," said Sayid. Alex looked to him, as did Desmond, though the latter did not look pleased.

"How's that, bruthah?" asked Desmond, standing. He let Alex's hand slip from his and looked about ready for a fight. But before anyone could do anything, Alex stood quickly and placed herself directly in front of Desmond.

"Calm down, mon cœur," she said. She turned to face Sayid and the rest of the survivors and said with simplicity, "Explain."

"We've met your mother," came the answer, though not from Sayid, but from Locke. He stood just behind Sayid, as usual it seemed that the situation was the most normal one in the world. He had been watching the girl with a sort of fascination, like she was some sort of endangered species.

Alex stared at him wide eyed, she opened her mouth and then closed it again. A strange expression crossed her face, but soon vanished with the flicker of the nearby fire.

"She's alive?" Alex whispered. She was looking at both Locke and Sayid, but the question sounded as though she were asking it to herself. Finally, Jack had had enough.

"One thing at a time," he said and turned to Alex. "I still need to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," she replied to him. But Desmond had already started to lead her toward one of the plane seats nearby. Jack did not immediately follow them, but went to speak with Sayid and Locke. Alex looked over her shoulder to watch them.

"Do you want to tell me what that was all about, sistah?" Desmond asked her, helping her to sit down. She looked up to him with a sly smile on her face.

"No," she answered. The look on his face was enough to convey his irritation with her unwillingness to confide in him. There was a sinking guilt in her stomach at this thought. "She's alive, Desmond."

"Yes, darling, I heard," he answered sitting down next to her. Alex could tell that, despite her attempts to open up to him, he was still upset.

"Desmond, you know I'm no good when it comes to her," she replied.

"And why's that?" asked a voice that most definitely did not belong to Desmond. Alex looked over to see Sayid, who had strolled quietly over from his conversation with Locke and Jack.

"How is that any of your business?" asked Alex. "Now, I know it's not everyday that a ranting Scotsman comes out of the jungle carrying a women who's bleeding all over the place, but that's no reason to be nosey."

Jack had come over and began to check over her with what supplies he had. He shined the dim flashlight in her eyes, and they reacted as was proper, he checked her reflexes, and was beginning on her pulse when Alex notice that Sayid was still standing there, watching her. It was a strange look, as though he were searching for something that could only be found after long contemplation.

"How do we know she's not one of them?" asked Ana-Lucia to Jack. She had been standing off to the side the whole time, watching the events unfold.

"The crazy French chick said they took her," added Charlie, who had been keeping Claire company while she helped Jack tend over the wounded Sawyer.

"The who what?" Alex asked, a puzzled look pasted on her face.

"Your mother," Sayid explained. "She said that the others had taken you from her when you were a baby." The only reply they first received was a snort of laughter.

"That women is a liar," Alex replied, putting emphasis on each word. "I ran away."

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Darkness, there was nothing around her but darkness. Nothing moved within it and there was no sound that reached her ears. Her brown eyes flew open, she was always afraid of the dark, especially in this place. The bunker was safer then most places on the island, but the shadows that the lamps cast always scared her.

"Daddy?" she asked, looking around. Nobody answered. "Momma?"

Slowly, she climbed out of the bed that she, her mother, and her father shared. They had all managed to fit in one bed since the other team members had left. Each had gone into the woods with her mother, but only her mother ever returned. Lately her dear father had been giving her mother a rather odd expressions.

"Mère?" she tried in her native French. Her mother was always more receptive when she did so. After all, mother had taught her everything herself. "Père?"

Again, there was no answer. The only option was the one she dreaded the most, leaving the shelter to search the jungle for her parents. A sinking feeling had come over her; nobody had gone out into the jungle with her mother recently and manage to come back. Mother had told her that they were "sick".

The little girl almost ran up the latter at the thought of her father never returning. She ran as fast as her short, stubby legs could go. Deep down she feared that she was already too late. Finally, she came to a clearing, in the middle of which were two people, a man and a woman. They were both pointing guns at each other and standing a few feet apart. The girl hid herself in the brush nearby.

"Don't make me do this, Danielle," said the man, tears in his eyes.

"Your sick," was the reply from the woman.

"No, I'm not!" he yelled back. "Neither were any of the others!"

"I'm sorry, Robert," she replied, leveling the gun at him.

"So am I," he said and pulled the trigger. The girl shut her eyes, but there was no sound. Upon opening she saw that the two figures, her parents, were still standing there, both very much alive.

"The firing pin. I took it out," Danielle said. She pulled back on the trigger and the sound made the girl jump, but she did not close her eyes in time. She watched the bullet enter directly into her father's temple, watched as he crumpled to the ground lifelessly. She let out a gasp and sat on the jungle floor on the verge of tears.

Finally, she got up, not really comprehending what exactly she was doing. She ran back to the shelter. As quickly as possible she gathered all of the belongings she could grab into a small backpack. Back up the latter she went, looking carefully out of the hidden entrance for any sight of her mother. Finding nothing, she popped the door open and ran in the opposite direction that she had gone to find her parents. She ran, tears streaming down her face.

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Jack watched Alex closely as she sat by the fire. He tried to contemplate if he and those he looked after could really trust her. If there was any truth to what Danielle had told them, then there was no way Jack could allow the woman to stay in the caves.

"You can trust her, bruthah," said Desmond, sitting down beside Jack on a log. Jack looked at the other man with a side long glance.

"Are you so sure of that?" Jack asked.

"She saved my life, twice. I trust her more then myself," came the reply. "She isn't her mother. She ran away from that when she was six years old. And she never looked back."

"Never?" Jack said, looking straight at Desmond.

"Well, maybe here and there," Desmond replied honestly. Both he and Jack now watched as Michael walked purposefully toward Alex.

Alex sat, staring into the fire that burned brightly in the pit. There was no one in the group that dared sit close to her, apparently rumor spread quickly. Anyone who had not been in the caves to hear the revelation that Rousseau's daughter was at their camp soon learned it from one of their fellow castaways. So Alex was more then surprised when there suddenly came a figure blocking the firelight from her.

She looked up to see a black man in a dirty orange shirt standing before her, there was a desperate look on his face. He crouched down before her and seemed at a loss for words for a moment.

"My name is Michael," the man said. "I need your help."

"Oh? How's that?" she asked, more then a little curious.

"You know this island, right? You lived here for sixteen years, you know it best?" he asked.

"I suppose so, yes," Alex answered. Now her full attention was captured. There was just something in this man's face. A desperation that she could not look away from.

"They took my son," Michael said. "They stole him right from me out there on the water."

"And you want me to help find him, is that it?"

"Yes," was the easy reply.

"No," came the answer, but not from Alex's lips. Both she and the man looked up to see Desmond standing beside them. "You're not going back out there. Not tonight, not in the morning, not anytime soon, yeah?"

"Excuse me?" she asked, standing up. Michael followed suit, more worried about finding his son then a fight.

"I just need her to show me-" started Michael.

"No," said Desmond firmly. He looked directly into Alex's eyes and he did not look away, despite the look of warning she gave him.

"Where the hell do you get off telling me what I can and can't do?" she asked, more anger evident in her voice. Desmond, however, did not back down.

"Where? How 'bout the part where I found you bleeding to death in the jungle? I think that's a good place to start, darling," he retorted.

"You heard them, I haven't got a scratch on me!" she yelled back. Now the nearby onlookers where beginning to take more of an interest in what was going on.

"Like I knew that!" Desmond was becoming more livid as the argument grew. Jack stood from the log that he and Desmond had been sitting on together not long ago. This had been a change from the Desmond that had spoken so fondly of the girl he now fought with.

"This has nothing to do with you, Desmond," said Alex, attempting to calm herself.

"Sorry to break it to ya, sistah, but it's got a bit to do with me," Desmond answered. "You're not going out there again!"

"Like hell I'm not!" She yelled and stormed off into the jungle. Desmond watched her go with fury in his eyes. For a moment he just stood, watching her tiny frame disappear into the darkness. Without a word he picked up his pack and ran after her.

To be continued...