Summary: Richard and all who live on it have to deal with the Island falling apart before their eyes. (set in Sideways-verse)

Notes: This part was written after 6x04 ("The Substitute"), and is now a complete AU. The part about record keeping was first inspired by this great fic "I Will Collect a Million Years" by bittersweet_fic at livejournal.

Disclaimer: I don't own Lost or anything related to it.

Ch. 2

The professor had no idea what to make of the dark haired, dark eyed man they had pulled from the ocean.

He had spoken to him in French, when the stranger first came to. "My daughter, Danielle, spotted you adrift."

When the man didn't respond, the professor had switched to English, and when there had still been nothing, he had talked in Spanish, to no avail. The rest of his crew gave it a shot, those who knew languages other than those three-the stranger remained silent. They had given up when someone tried sign language, and the man's voice continued to be of no use.

###

Richard heard the crew whisper; his French was perfectly fine. They figured he was traumatized, driven insane-were confident solitude and survivor's guilt had done him in, since they had no doubt he didn't start out alone, that he had come from a group, had been at least with one other person-before something horrible happened. He isn't about to tell them they're correct in pointing out the obvious.

###

Danielle visited him sometimes. The little girl would talk to him, ask him questions he refused to answer. Richard wouldn't speak, not even to her, one who clearly posed no threat. The child didn't seem to mind, just as long as someone seemed to listen to her. She showed him her journal, with pictures and descriptions of the places she'd been to, the things she'd seen, as she had traveled with her father. Danielle confided in him that she wanted to be a scientist just like her Papa.

Danielle reminded Richard of what he had tried to forget before, when news of Eloise's pregnancy had been given: that he had a daughter once. Even grandchildren, for a time. He could not remember their faces. No, he would not speak, not even to little Danielle.

###

Richard finally broke his silence to ask where his-John Locke's-compass was. It hadn't taken long to regain his strength, enough to get out of bed to search his now dried clothes (they had stripped him while unconscious and given him a fresh shirt and pants). When it failed to show up in the pocket he had left it, or anywhere else among his clothes, he had walked out of the room to ask the crew.

He grew steadily frustrated and suspicious when everyone claimed to be ignorant of the item, saying that it must've been lost in the sea, and then immediately launching their own questions about his identity and situation. Richard went silent again, watching the crew just as quietly when he was certain they weren't looking, observing for a thief. But presently, he reconsidered: why would any of them steal a compass that looked as worthless as his? He could've just as easily lost the damn thing in the ocean, either during the storm or when he had searched for someone else or when he had tried to drown himself or when the whole damn Island…the Island...

Richard hadn't bothered checking for the compass when he first woke up floating alone, only now did he-there had been no reason to, not when the Island was…was gone-not moved. Just gone. Either at the bottom of the ocean (he remembered now, the sensation of sinking) or it had exploded or-it was just irrevocably lost...

Back in the room the crew had given him, Richard sat on the bed, head down with hands fisted in his hair. Forget the compass-his journals, diaries, records of the past left behind on the Island...how would he remember? He had worked to keep more detailed entries after he realized his problems with memory over the years, how easy it was to forget...

The next time Danielle showed him another page in her journal, Richard's jaw clenched, but he didn't protest. He didn't say anything at all.

###

When the ship landed, Richard left quickly. He didn't want any more fuss. It was surprisingly easy to escape the crew's notice and to blend into the crowds. He had to find what was left of his people.

###

Danielle found the stranger's room empty. His clothes were gone, and the new ones her father and his crew had given him were neatly folded on the bed. That surprised the girl; why didn't he just take them?

She sat down on his old bed and flipped to the latest pages in her journal; one had a sketch of the stranger and a description and thoughts about him written down (he's a pirate!). That was for her own records; the other was meant to be ripped out, as a present to him-a farewell card to him with a picture of her father's ship, dotted with smiling faces.

###

Ellie and Charles talked quietly, leaving Daniel alone with Richard.

"I don't think he'll help," said Charles decisively, in a low voice.

Eloise shook her head: "I don't think he believes there is anything to help with."

"There's still enough of our people here."

"But scattered-and if Richard has given up-" Eloise stopped, then gave a sigh. "Charles, I just think he's tired."

###

After his own, there had only been others' children over the years to keep him in practice with regards to holding infants, and Daniel was just another in a long list. Cradling the child to his chest, feeling and hearing his soft breaths soothed Richard. Still, there were uncomfortable thoughts, ranging from visions of the infant's older self confessing love to that red headed woman (would Ellie be overprotective when time caught up?), to him lying dead at his feet over a bluff they both knew would've never been realized (Ellie, what have you done?).

Richard thought he would check up on Daniel, at least. After everything that had happened, he really didn't want the child to die before his time.

###

Ben followed Richard's eyes, where they laid on Annie's retreating back. The boy nodded, a smile on his face; "Horace let her come over until her Aunt got off work."

Then the child frowned, bowing his head for a moment. When he looked back up at Richard, he asked, "Do you know what happened to her parents? No one could find them and-"

Richard shook his head. "No. That's part of why I'm here, Ben."

When he glanced at the Goodspeed household, a worried look crossed the boy's face. "If you talk with Horace, I don't think he'll-"

"Don't worry, we've already spoken." Ben gaped at him, and before he could ask a question, Richard continued, "What have they told you, about the Island?" Ben shuffled nervously, and Richard added, "What have you overheard?"

"Horace and Amy wouldn't tell me anything, but I overhead them say something about 'communication problems...'"

"There's nothing to communicate with. The Island's gone." The boy tried not to flinch at the cracking harshness in Richard's voice. "Your friend's parents are probably dead."

Ben couldn't bring himself to ask 'how?' and 'what happened?'-he could see how hurt his older friend was.

He should change the topic, and to something he'd been meaning to say. "Thanks for…y'know..." It still amazed the boy, the temple, that spring, and all of it still blurry around the edges in his recollection... He did remember though, Richard shouting at someone, saying that there was no point in some test, the damn monster was already out and wouldn't bother with infection-maybe Ben had been delusional about that after all though. It wasn't a particularly clear memory.

Richard actually gave a small smile. "Nothing to say thanks for."

"It is too," replied Ben, almost petulantly, and Richard actually gave a brief light laugh.

Then Richard looked real serious, and he sighed. "Do you remember who shot you?"

"No." Ben toyed with his sleeves. "And I've been trying to..." He had hoped that maybe Richard would have news about that too.

The infinitely older man nodded, "Some memory loss is a common side effect of the spring's healing."

Richard said he would visit him again later-that is, if Ben was all right with that. The boy was quick to say that would be perfectly fine.

"What are you going to do now?"

When enough silence had passed and Ben was sure he wouldn't answer, Richard finally said, "There's someone else I have to check on. Then I'll travel. Research."

"Could I write you letters?"

"I don't know how long I'll stay in any one place…but I'll write to you. Send postcards."

Ben felt particularly adult when Richard shook his hand.

###

The boy was older-an adult, for all intents and purposes. Richard watched. Observed. Debated. Tested the waters when asking him for directions, trying to catch any sign of recognition in his eyes-there was none.

John Locke still didn't seem all that special-just blissfully normal. His whole life ahead of him, with a finite end.

Richard had thought it a mistake before, but Eloise had let him look over Dan's-the older (dead) Daniel's journal. If it was all time travel, then it was likely that when he visited Locke as a small child, he hadn't known about the compass yet-he would probably obtain it later. It wasn't a case of omniscience or prescience or any other supernatural sight with Locke. It was simply a time loop, as Eloise had worded it, looking over his shoulder while he poured over Daniel's notes for the first time.

But what would happen to the loop now? Richard had begun to wonder if it was like a strand of thread in Jacob's weaving, suddenly splitting down the middle and starting a new path-gods, this was confusing.

Some small part of Richard actually appreciated the return of that sensation.

And it was true-time had always been linear for him. A straight path, unending. Where you could only see or forget what came before, but never truly travel back. Where you could only see hints of what was ahead, but never go beyond your present. Time had never gone in circles for him before.

Richard debated with himself again. Should he contact Locke more directly? Use the sources he had left in the outside world to recruit the young man at Mittelos Bioscience or some other front corporation? How close should he keep tabs on him? Should he at all? Perhaps he should just leave the boy alone. What would involving him accomplish?

Richard could not escape the undeniable feeling of permanent failure-that nothing could be reversed. Perhaps it was because Eloise and Charles and the rest of what was left of his people were young, so young-perhaps it was because of that they could hope and be skeptical of their home's disappearance. He, on the other hand, was old-old and certain of loss.

The Island (his home) was gone. Jacob was gone. In his most desperate hopes (even he had them sometimes), he could believe Jacob was finally allowed to go back to the place he had called home before the Island, before he had been chosen to guard the Monster. In his more frequent and most realistic thoughts, Richard could see even Jacob perishing in the Island's sinking, along with the rest of their people left behind.

There was a bitter relief in knowing the Monster was gone. At least one thing went right.

Richard pushed down on the gas pedal, leaving John Locke behind to live his own life.

###

The gun weighed nothing in his hands. Richard had pulled off into an empty clearing in some park. He considered his finger around the trigger.

This time, Richard was fully aware of how pathetic he seemed. Perhaps deep down, he had always known-but it had always been an irrelevant thought, he had his duty to focus on, Jacob to help.

Now, that was gone.

And for all his emptiness and growing despair over the fact, there was something else, threatening to fill the hole-Richard wasn't sure if he could trust it-something that whispered, free, free, free...

For what?

Anything. Anything you want. No one to send you out, only to call you back.

There is nothing to go back to. No home...

That just means you're free, so very free-free to go wherever you want, how long you want. Nothing to tie you down, nothing to lose, never ever again-and it hadn't always been home. When you were young, so very young…even you thought it was a prison for a time, even you couldn't forget all of that.

Did tell Ben about travelling. Promised to send him post cards.

He craves the attention of anyone kind to him. And there's Daniel. You really don't want him to die a young man and render everything truly futile, now do you? Granted, they're not yours-no one could ever replace the ones you lost-and it's true watching them grow wouldn't be new, you've seen it all before.

Told Ben about research-but not what about. To find a way to be mortal again...

Now that's doable, that's surely reversible. To be like everyone else. You never wanted to be special. No, never truly thought ill of anyone who was-it just wasn't something you ever wanted for yourself.

I could…I could...

Yes…yes you can…can finally leave it all behind…the damn Island, Jacob, everything, everyone...

…Esau?

Richard very calmly laid the gun down, while he checked his mirrors, as if he could see in their reflection the Monster, gray haired and bearded, pretending to be human. He had just realized the voice in his head, his thoughts…they all sounded like that thing's human voice.

You, my friend-and Richard fully turned around to look at the back seat because that had been Jacob's voice-were alone in the sea for too long.

Perhaps he had been. He hadn't kept track of the days drifting out there. Perhaps he had been more affected by his solitude after the Incident than previously thought. Perhaps he hadn't had enough time to deal with-

Richard leaned his head against the steering wheel, laughing.

Time was all he had now.

"To hell with this," muttered Richard, then lifted his head, stowed his gun away, and drove.

To where, he had no idea. Richard would at least enjoy his ignorance.

Fin

Notes: I did the math based on Lostpedia to figure out Locke's age during this time. I took artistic license with Danielle Rousseau's age. The thing with Jacob and Esau (Samuel now, apparently—but it'll stay Esau here, though they are one in the same: the Man in Black) near the end is just ambiguous at the moment-not currently a direct hint of a way larger storyline in later fic. For those who've seen the series finale, some of the things in this fic ended up surprisingly similar, didn't they?