Chapter Six: "Rectified"

Caroline was two months away from her 15th birthday when her mother died.

That morning, she stood in the empty bedroom her mother had spent the last couple months of her life in. Besides a lamp on the bedside table and a laundry basket in the corner, the room had been stripped clean of personal effects. The mattress was bare; the sheets had been disposed of upon the removal of Miriam's body. Caroline didn't even want to be in the empty room; the feeling was oppressing, to say the least. But she forced herself to stay, and sat down on the edge of the mattress, facing the open window.

The island breeze blew in, rustling her hair about her shoulders and blowing a strand in front of her eyes. She shook her head to dislodge it and took a breath, savoring one of the only parts of island she still found enjoyable.

Since the purge two years ago, in which her father had died along with 90 percent of the remaining Dharma personnel, things had changed drastically. Less than a year later, Ben had become the new de facto leader of those left alive on the island, and subsequently banished Charles Widmore. From what she had learned and experienced of Charles prior to his removal from the island, Caroline didn't think it was a great loss. However, Ben as a replacement wasn't any kind of gain, either.

Save for a handful of those who preferred to adhere to the previous lifestyle of tents and jungle living, the majority of the island's inhabitants now resided in the Dharma barracks. Caroline had remained in her original house with her mother, but she had always desired to live in the jungle. She'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit that had something to do with Richard Alpert.

One of the positive after effects of the purge had been the world of learning and knowledge that Caroline had been immersed in, once the Dharma boundaries ceased to exist. Richard especially seemed to encourage and even nurture her desire to learn, about the island, about its history, about everything. He told her many stories, mostly about Jacob. He taught her Latin. But there were still many things he had yet to explain, claiming that it wasn't yet time.

But the atmosphere had slowly begun to change since Ben took over. New people arrived on the island, and some left to become contacts in other areas of the world. There were even some children, including Ben's "daughter", Alex. The focus had slowly begun to shift, from the island's best interest, from Jacob, to…something else. Caroline wasn't quite sure yet what it was, but she didn't know if she liked it.

Then, her mother got sick. It came on suddenly and started like the flu. When she started throwing up blood, however, Caroline realized something might be seriously wrong. Severe amebic dysentery was the official diagnosis by Henry, their sort of acting doctor, though Caroline doubted much of his expertise. The most knowledgeable person on the island when it came to remedies and treatment had been Miriam Hawthorne, and everyone knew that, even Henry. She'd single-handedly run the medical bay, much as before the purge, monitoring and treating everything from cuts and bruises to minor infections. No one really seemed to ever get too sick on the island, which was why everyone was left disoriented when the person who finally did was their nurse.

The proper drugs had not been available on the island to treat Miriam. Ben constantly assured Caroline that he was doing everything he could to procure them, but these things took time. By their eventual arrival, however, even the most powerful antibiotics had little effect. Miriam had resigned herself to death much more easily than Caroline had.

"We've both seen many things on this island, darling," she had said. "Miracles, even. Your birth, Caroline…even your birth was a miracle. I should have died, you very well could have. But clearly, you needed to live. Jacob wanted you to live. And we have to accept that. Just as we have to accept this." Then she had touched Caroline's face and gone to sleep. Hours later, she was dead.

Now, Caroline sat on the bed and pondered her mother's last piece of advice. We have to accept this. We have to accept this. No matter how many times she repeated it in her head, the only response she felt was…why? She had never questioned Jacob before…she simply believed. She knew there were others in the camp that had trouble going on faith alone. But the stories Richard told her were too elaborate, too believable to be false. Also, she didn't believe in a million years that Richard would lie to her, about anything.

Caroline had vague memories of seeing Jacob as a child, coupled with the sketch she had done of him. She certainly believed he existed. But now, for the first time, she felt herself beginning to question his motives. The thought was almost too horrifying to bear; no one questioned Jacob. If Ben found out what she was thinking, she'd be undoubtedly shipped off just like Charles.

Before she could think it over, a soft knock interrupted her.

"Caroline, I didn't think you would be here." She didn't have to turn around to know it was Ben who had entered the room behind her. His voice was softer than usual, cautious, but she knew he wouldn't be here without a reason.

"Why not?" She hadn't spoken all morning, not even to Henry when he had come, or the two men who had arrived to carry her mother's body out of the house and down to the medical bay, for what she didn't know, and didn't want to. Her voice sounded hoarse with lack of use, like she had just woken up.

"I guess I thought you'd be gone somewhere," Ben admitted, rounding the bed to stand in her line of vision. He took off the bag he carried around with him everywhere, the bag he'd had since he was a kid. "The jungle, maybe."

Caroline didn't miss the way Ben's voice rose slightly on the last word, almost questioning but not quite. Ben was almost 29, now, the same age her brother would be. Miriam had constantly reminded Caroline of this, as if that would influence her to treat Ben like kin. Her mother had liked him, quite well, probably because he'd used to babysit her when she was little, and was a tremendous kiss up. Caroline could still hear her mother's voice in her head.

"Now that your father is gone, you'll need someone to watch out for you. You never got the opportunity for a brother, and clearly Jacob has supplicated that with Ben. You should be thankful for that, Caroline."

She'd eventually given up trying to tell her mother that Ben was really just a big talker who was more concerned with making her feel small than making her feel protected. His most recent complaint had been her time spent with Richard – he wasted no opportunity to point out her obvious teenage crush in increasingly humiliating ways. Caroline wasn't sure why he was trying to keep her away from Richard, but she had the feeling it had more to do with Ben's well being than hers.

"No. I'm here," she responded simply, challenging him with her eyes. Ben dropped the matter and sat down next to her on the mattress.

"Either way, I figured I should come by and see you."

"Why's that, Ben?" Caroline asked. "To apologize for standing back and letting my mother die?

Ben turned to look at her, shocked. "What a thing to say, Caroline. You know that I did everything I could to get that medication to the island in—"

"Did you?" she interrupted. "Did you do everything you could? For some reason, I didn't quite get that feeling of urgency from you." Ben didn't respond for a few moments, and when he did, his voiced was cold and abrupt.

"Putting aside the fact that I liked your mother very much, why on earth do think that I would be stupid enough to not do everything I could to save the life of the only person on the island capable of basic medical practice?" Ben stood up and moved towards the window – it was obvious she had really put him off. "Sometimes you can really be careless, Caroline."

Caroline frowned and looked down at her hands in her lap. He was right, in a way. Her mother had been valuable. Ben had been known to kill people or let them die had their use to him run out…but Miriam had been needed. Perhaps she had spoken too soon.

"You're right. I'm sorry, I'm just…" She hesitated, searching for the right word. Devastated, bereaved, heartbroken…none of them quite seemed to cover it. "Upset," she muttered, closing her eyes and rubbing her temple gently. Ben cleared his throat.

"Obviously you have the right to be. But generally, people cry when they're upset. Not start throwing out accusations of murder."

"Technically, I never used the word murder," Caroline pointed out, looking up at him. "Just implied negligence." Ben shook his head and crossed his arms.

"Either way, it was hurtful. But considering the morning you've had, I'll let it slide." He paused and looked out the window before continuing. "I am sorry, Caroline."

She tried to say thanks or something of the like, but the word caught on the lump in her throat.

They sat in silence for a few more moments, Ben staring out the window and Caroline staring at her hands. Just when she was about to think their meeting had been the closest to pleasant she had ever gotten with Ben, he spoke again.

"Caroline, I'm going to have to ask you to move out."

She blinked. "Um, excuse me?"

Ben sighed, turning away from the window to look at her. "Don't get upset; not off the island. Just out of the house." Caroline frowned.

"May I ask why?"

"You may," Ben acknowledged, and reached down to fish something out of his bag. He extracted a manila folder and tossed it to her. "Goodwin and Harper Stanhope. One of our contacts in upstate New York recruited them last month. She's a clinical psychologist, he's an engineer. You'll find their credentials are outstanding."

Caroline stared at the folder in her lap, flipping it open briefly only to snap it closed again. She had no desire to peruse the lives of strangers. "And they need my house, why?"

"This is one of the last two bedroom houses in the barracks; as a married couple, I believe they need it more than you do." Ben shrugged. "I'm not asking you to move into a tent. Unless, that's what you want." Again, the questioning, accusatory lilt in his voice. Caroline ignored him.

"So where are you throwing me?"

"Jill's old house. The one bedroom, on the far side of the grounds. I considered placing you with one of the other women, but I assumed you would prefer to live alone."

Caroline didn't really care where she lived; she probably would rather live in the jungle with the others. But the fact that Ben had come in to order her out of the house her mother had just died in on the same day of her death was more than a little insensitive. "When do I need to leave?"

"Preferably today; the Stanhopes are arriving tomorrow afternoon on the sub," Ben replied. "I'm sorry to—"

Caroline effectively ignored the rest of what Ben was saying; she had no interest in his empty apologies and excuses. She finally felt like crying, but didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing it. Not waiting for him to finish, Caroline stood up and walked out of the bedroom, ignoring Ben's voice calling after her. She continued down the hallway, out the door, off the porch, and away from the house, putting as much space between her and Ben as she could.

She considered just heading for the jungle directly, but didn't know if she could make it that far. So she veered left instead, heading towards the old swing set surrounded by the peeling white picket fence. Caroline hadn't been on the swings in years; she had vague memories of her father pushing her on the set when she was very small. It didn't seem like something her father would do, but she wasn't sure who else would have pushed her. After that, she'd abandoned most every other plaything for coloring books, and when she'd mastered reading, real books.

The old metal set creaked as she sat down on one of the sagging swings, swaying gently in the breeze. Now that she was away from Ben, the encroaching tears seemed to dry up mostly, but a few had managed to sneak out on the walk over. She didn't brush them away, even when they tickled, just allowed them to roll slowly down her cheeks, leaving a salty trail.

She had only been alone a few minutes when she felt the swing set shift and creak under a new weight. Caroline closed her eyes and hoped Ben hadn't followed her, but the voice that reached her ears belonged to Richard.

"Caroline." She felt the warmth of his hand on her shoulder and felt comforted instantly, as if his touch had reached in and scooped out every bad feeling in her heart. "I am so sorry."

She opened her eyes and turned to look at him. His dark eyes showed that he meant nothing out of contrition, only genuine concern. There was a part of her that wanted to lean into his touch, throw herself into his arms and cry, cry out all the hurt and sadness and pain she felt. But as usual, she suppressed that part of herself and tried to smother it under logic. The logical, reasonable thing to do was definitely not blubbering all over Richard's shirt.

"Thanks," she murmured instead, finally reaching up to wipe her face, but the tears had made their descent. Only half-dried streaks remained.

Richard didn't say anything more for a little while, and Caroline felt he was doing what he usually did – giving her a chance to speak her mind. This was unusual to her, as it was something her father had never done, nor did Ben. They were the type of people to trample over the voices of others with their own, as if their thoughts were more superior and worthy of being considered.

For a long time, Caroline couldn't think of anything to say. Then, as if the floodgates had been opened, she began to speak, not even sure what she was saying.

"It's just…I don't know why she had to die. And Ben didn't try to stop it, like he didn't even care, like it wasn't a priority. And maybe it wasn't, not to him or to Jacob, but I don't understand why not. She was my mom, she was all I had left. I already gave up my dad, and now my mom too?" Her voice was on the edge of hysteria but it was too late to stop. "It's not fair, and it doesn't make any sense. I thought the things that Jacob did were supposed to make sense, they were supposed to benefit the island, but how did my mom's death benefit the island? If anything, it made it worse, at least for me. And I don't even really like this place anymore anyway, not like I used to, but now I don't even have a goddamn mother."

Caroline had never cursed before, at least not that she could remember, and the word felt distasteful in her mouth, but at least she felt like she had made her point. Her sadness had mixed with anger and indignation, towards Jacob, towards Ben, towards stupid idiot Henry who probably didn't even get the diagnosis right in the first place, towards the perfect Stanhopes moving into her house tomorrow. The one person she didn't feel angry at was the man sitting next to her on the swing set, his hand still resting on her shoulder.

When she had calmed down slightly, forcing herself to stop regurgitating words before she said something that really got her in trouble, Caroline looked at Richard out of the corner of her eye. He wasn't watching her, instead staring at the ground, apparently deep in thought, like he usually was.

Caroline wasn't stupid; she knew something was up with Richard. She remembered their first meeting as clearly as if it were yesterday – almost 6 years ago and he still looked exactly the same as he had on that day. She had told herself for awhile that that was normal for adults, they didn't age as visibly as growing children. But it was pretty apparent that he had not a single gray hair or wrinkle. And weirder still, he was always clean. Even though he lived in a tent in the jungle, he never seemed to sweat or get dirty, even on the most sweltering of days. She had also never seen him cry, but then again, she had never seen her father cry, either. However, she knew intrinsically that Richard was a very, very different kind of man than her father had been.

She figured his…condition was because of Jacob, but why not ask? And it seemed like the perfect moment.

"What's wrong with you, Richard?" she blurted, realizing later that she could have worded her query better. "How…how old are you?"

She remembered their conversation in the jungle, when he had said maybe someday he'd tell her how old he was. She'd passed it off at the time as maybe him just being difficult, but the cryptic statement was not lost on her now.

Richard looked up from the ground, meeting her eyes, and he smiled. It wasn't a happy smile or a mocking smile, it looked more sad than anything else. "I'm…old, Caroline."

"I know, I know." She rolled her eyes, reaching back to tug on her ponytail for lack of something else to do with her hands. "But that's not what I'm asking."

Richard still watched her intently. "I am this way because of Jacob."

She swallowed; the lump in her throat was creeping back up and she didn't know why. "And, will you always be this way?"

He shook his head, but it wasn't a yes or no answer. "I don't question Jacob. He does things only for the benefit of the island."

Caroline sighed and stood up, pacing in front of the swings mindlessly. "I know, no one's supposed to question Jacob. Whatever you do, don't question Jacob. But what if I am questioning him? Does that mean something bad is going to happen to me? That he's going to strike me dead right this instant?"

Richard watched her, still smiling. "That's…not how it works, Caroline."

"Well, how does it work then, Richard?" she demanded, and she had never raised her voice at Richard like this before. Maybe Ben, but never Richard. "Because that's always what you seem to leave out."

It angered her further to see that he was still watching her calmly, his eyes following her trail as she paced back and forth like some kind of caged circus tiger. "You aren't the first to question him," Richard said softly. "And you won't be the last."

This made her feel a little better, but she didn't want to let him know that. "Well, great then. So I'm questioning him, but where are my answers going to come from?"

Richard didn't respond, just let her keep pacing. Finally, Caroline stopped and stood still in front of him, feeling a little ridiculous but better now that she had just let it out.

"I'm sorry I'm being this way, I'm just…" She shook her head. "Pissed off. I'm so pissed off."

"Why?" Richard asked, even though she had a sneaking suspicion that he already knew somehow.

"I just…Ben asked me to leave my house," she blurted out, instantly wishing she hadn't. She tried not to complain about Ben to Richard, for a few different reasons. Even though she knew Richard technically didn't have as much power as Ben, their leader, there was something incredibly influential about a man who had apparently been on the island since the beginning of time. She knew that, if he wanted to, he could exercise control over Ben. Also, her mother had apparently made some deal with him in which he had promised to protect her. His defense was never in a selfish way, like Ben's, but instead he only seemed to care about what was best for her. She was inwardly thankful for this, and reminded herself that it was probably the source of her embarrassingly girly hero-worship sort of crush on him that she'd had since she was 9. But all things considered, she tried not to exploit this.

Richard was staring at her. "He…what?"

Caroline sighed. "I shouldn't have said anything. There's some couple coming to the island on the sub tomorrow, and…it's really not a big deal."

"Goodwin Stanhope and his wife," Richard echoed. "Yes, I was aware of their arrival, but for Ben to ask you to leave your house hours after your mother's death is really unacceptable, Caroline."

"I know, but he's the leader, right?" She shrugged and tried to play if off like it didn't upset her as much as it really did. "It doesn't matter."

Richard stood up as well and put his hand on her arm gently. "I'll ask him to give you a few more days. The Stanhopes can stay somewhere else until—"

"No, please, Richard, don't do that," Caroline begged. "It'll just make things worse." Richard cocked his head, looking confused.

"What do you mean?" The last thing she wanted to tell him was that Ben would just ridicule her for having Richard fight her battles. So she shrugged and took a step away from him.

"It's nothing, really, it's just…been a rough day." She glanced over his shoulder towards her house, wondering if Ben was still inside. "I should probably go start packing. What else am I going to do, sit around and mope?"

"You deserve to grieve, Caroline," Richard reminded, looking more concerned for her than ever. "No one will blame you for that."

Caroline laughed but it was forced and humorless. "Yeah. Well, I don't even know what they're doing with her body. Probably running some ridiculous tests and experiments as we speak." Without will, another tear rolled down her cheek. This time, she caught it quickly.

"Where would you like to bury her?" Richard asked. "I can make arrangements with the medical staff."

She filled with gratitude for him and found herself blushing. "Um, I don't…I guess maybe somewhere by the beach. She liked to take walks there." The last thing she wanted was her mother's ruined body tossed unceremoniously in the pit somewhere with the rest of the Dharma corpses. With her father.

Richard nodded. "I'll take care of it. We can have a small memorial gathering in the next couple of days, if you would like." As much as Caroline wanted to say goodbye to her mother privately, she knew that Miriam had been well-liked and many would want to share memories of her and pay respects.

"Yeah. Yes. That…sounds fine." She looked at Richard, his concerned and caring eyes, and felt almost guilty for her silly crush on him. He was just trying to help. He was trying to fill the void her father had left, and she was misinterpreting it, that was all. "Thank you, Richard."

"You're welcome, Caroline." He returned her small smile. "You know that I liked your mother very much. She was an intelligent and beautiful person. Like you."

Caroline's blush started to reach epic proportions and she knew that she needed to get away. "Th-thanks. I, um, better go. Pack and stuff. See ya."

She ran off before Richard could say goodbye, and he sat back down on the swing he'd vacated, staring out at the jungle. Miriam Hawthorne's death was an unfortunate occurrence in multiple ways, but the most obvious one was how it had affected, and would continue to affect Caroline. He knew this was something that would change her, take away her innocence. She was already questioning Jacob, which he had anticipated, and that kind of concern could not go ignored for long.

However, he had enjoyed watching her grow over the years and nurtured her curiosity greatly. With the Dharma educators either leaving the island or dying, he had somewhat unofficially taken on the opportunity to tutor her. Even at fourteen, she was already studying advanced concepts that most secondary students would be struggling to master, so the job was not difficult. In fact, Richard enjoyed teaching her, probably more than most things.

It was obvious she had a crush on him, and Richard couldn't help but feel bad about that. He had promised her mother that he would protect her above all else. He had known and watched over Caroline since she was a baby. But she wasn't a little girl anymore, and she was well on her way to becoming a woman. Richard knew Ben had been questioning the time they spent together, but he ignored it. The girl was special, he knew it, Ben knew it, Jacob knew it. But what her exact purpose on the island was, Richard wasn't quite sure yet. He only knew that Jacob didn't do things without reasons behind them.

"Richard." Ben's voice broke into his thoughts, and he looked up to see the younger man in front of him. Ben had evolved as well, from that young kid he had encountered in the jungle, to a hardened, meticulous man. Richard knew Jacob had a reason for this, too, which was what he constantly worked to remind himself.

"Hello, Ben," he greeted. Ben nodded.

"Caroline came running to you after all, I see." Richard shook his head.

"Was there a reason you felt the need to kick her out of her family's house the same morning that her mother died?"

Ben frowned. "If you think I did it expressly to be jackass, you're wrong, Richard."

"Good to know," Richard replied. "I'm retrieving her mother's body from the medical bay. She'll be buried near the beach, within the next couple of days."

Ben's frown only deepened, his hands clenching on the bag slung over his shoulder. "That's not protocol, Richard. You know that—"

"It's her mother, Ben." Richard stood up, unprepared to take no for an answer. "We would have done the same for your father, had you accepted my offer." His voice was firm, and Ben did not fight back.

"Fine. Whatever you say. You are here to advise me, after all." Ben's voice was full of spite, but Richard ignored it.

"Also, she's going to want to be taken to Jacob."

Ben stared. "What? What do you mean? Did she say…?"

"Not yet, but she will eventually," Richard said. "She'll expect you to take her, being our leader." Ben looked like he may pass out.

"But I thought you said that no one could request an audience with Jacob except for…me."

"You're right. But she's not going to request it, she's going to demand it. And if we don't take her, she'll go alone."

AN: Hi. If you've gotten this far, please review, even if you thought it sucked. Tell me what you want to see more of/less of/not at all. Thanks!