Disclaimer: Lost is so not mine. The characters belong to the respective authors that created them. Anything that seems vaguely like a pop culture reference belongs to the owner of said pop culture reference. Thank you to Golden-Black Dragon for writing parts of Brad's flashbacks. Chapter title comes from the song "Just To Get High" by Nickelback.
Chapter Eight
"Just cause you got the monkey off your back, doesn't mean the circus has left town"
-George Carlin
Oliver muffled a moan, biting his lip hard. Waves of pain rushed over him as he gripped his foot. Damned airplane, he thought. Blood dripped down his toes where the shard of metal had pierced the skin. He wished he had his sneakers, but he'd hidden them a half mile back in order to keep his steps quiet. Sneaking about was an acquired talent, and an accomplishment Oliver was proud of.
At the edge of the jungle, he finally encountered the mid-section camp. He was almost impressed- they'd managed to build a functional camp. Not that that really mattered. They wouldn't be staying there long. As soon as Jason and Goodwin finished their observations, lists could be made. Then life could return to normal and the island would be safe.
That is, life would return to normal if Goodwin didn't keep fucking around.
He spotted the man in question buzzing around the tent of a teenage girl with a scowl on her face. Cupping his hands around his face, he imitated a bird call loudly. Goodwin jumped in surprise, as did the girl.
"What do you think that was?" the girl asked nervously, though her face remained stoic.
"I'll go find out." Goodwin was reassuring as ever. Walking into the jungle, he caught Oliver's eyes. "How are things, Ollie?" he asked, carefree. Louder, he called out, "It's alright Mia. Just a bird! I'm gonna head back to the beach camp!"
"Later Goodwin," she called back.
Oliver rolled his eyes, and nodded for Goodwin to follow him. Ben had distinctly told the spies not to get involved. Stay on the outskirts, just observe the survivors. Goodwin had ignored that, and was risking the mission and the island. In Oliver's book, that was unacceptable.
"What's up Ollie?" Goodwin asked.
Oliver's temper flared up, and he punched the other man as hard as he could. Goodwin staggered backwards. "What the hell, man? You contact Madelyn without telling anyone else and try to kidnap the little girl? Everyone knows Madelyn'll do anything to impress Ben. You took advantage of her. And don't even get me started on the fact that we're completely unprepared to deal with these people, should they realize they're not alone on the island. God, I don't understand why Ben picked you for this mission."
"I'm doing what I think needs to be done. I don't need you, or Jason, or anyone else telling me how to act. I will do what needs to be done, and it'll be done my way."
"Listen you son of a bitch," Oliver growled, grabbing Goodwin by the collar. "Don't you dare fuck this up. There's too much at stake. You'll do what Ben says. Now get back to camp, and remember what I said."
He dropped Goodwin, and slipped back into the woods. Hopefully Juliet would be around to help clean up the cut on his foot.
O O O
"Dad, it's your turn," Chris said softly, staring at the white pawns on the backgammon board. Brad continued to gaze upon his own black pawns, afraid that if he looked over at Chris, they might have to make some sort of conversation. He never knew what to say to the little boy. Every topic seemed taboo, nothing quite appropriate to tell a seven year old.
There's a conversation starter… 'Hey Chris, wanna hear about the time your dad got high and had a ménage a trios.'
"Dad? Dad are you gonna move?"
He looked up quickly, attempting a smile. "Sure thing, buddy," he said, injecting as much enthusiasm into the words as he could. Rolling the two die, he got double fours. He moved two pieces forward equally.
"You're up."
Silence reigned again, and Brad knew he had to escape. He couldn't be a dad. He hadn't been ready when Ari had told him she was pregnant almost eight years ago. Hell, he wasn't ready now.
White pawns moved, black pawns moved, back and forth, and still Brad and Christopher did not speak. "I win," Chris said finally.
"Good job kiddo," Brad said, trying to sound impressed. He was pretty sure it failed miserably.
Now, how do I avoid round two? Brad wondered. At the edge of the jungle, he saw Jack and Natalie. Jack was packing a bag with empty water bottles. Glancing at the ground, he saw Chris's water bottle was nearly empty. Water run? That should take a while, and at least I'll be doing something useful. Not bad! And I can ask Natalie to watch Chris.
"You're almost out of water, buddy. How 'bout I go get us a fresh supply? That sound good? Maybe you could teach Natalie how to play while I'm gone!"
Chris frowned, but he drank the water that was left and handed Brad the bottle. Quickly, Brad walked away, unable to deal with the look of disappointment in his son's eyes. The kid deserved a better father than him.
O O O
The island was large, covered in dense jungle- trees and vines and shrubs. From the kayak, Brad stumbled onto a pure, untouched beach that just begged to be developed into the latest celebrity resort. It was paradise, it was heaven, it was… on fire?
In the distance, a coil of smoke was rising from the jungle. Brad felt himself drawn to it, to its peculiar scent. It wasn't that normal, smoky smell. It was spiced, heavy, like a drug.
He moved to follow the smoke, and watched as the end of the coil drew back, almost like an army retreating. Brad stopped, and the smoke stopped moving. One step, and the smoke retreated again. It was a game of follow the leader, one that he found himself willing to play. Deeper and deeper they moved into the jungle, the vines strangling the trees and the path.
"Save us Brad…"
It was a woman's voice, light and airy, floating through the trees. She was nearby. Instinct told him to stop, and he carefully observed his surroundings, pushing his long black hair out of his face. A blonde haired woman, holding a newborn in her arms, stood in the midst of the smoke. The features of her face were indiscernible. "Don't let him be raised by another… save me… save Aaron… save Christopher…"
She retreated with the smoke, deeper and deeper into the jungle. "Wait!" he cried, though he knew it was useless. Brad started running faster and faster, praying he wouldn't lose sight of them. He didn't know why it was so important, didn't know who she was, but he knew he could lose her like he had Ari. Somehow, he knew that she was too precious to be abandoned, too precious to be left for dead.
"Find me at the temple, Brad… I'll be waiting for you there… save us… save us all…"
Brad shot up in his bed, panting and sweating, the blankets tangled about his legs. The moonlight through the curtained window reflected off the clean white walls of the Australian rehabilitation facility. The phone on the bedside table was ringing.
"Jesus Christ, it's three in the morning," he answered gruffly, even though he was wide awake.
"I'm looking for Brad Donegan," the woman on the other end replied tersely. "My name is Polly Gabreel. I'm with the Australian child protective services."
"Wait… what?" he stuttered. Child protective services? He was never around kids, and frankly, that was a-ok with him.
"Mr. Donegan, are you aware your ex-wife attempted suicide two nights ago?"
Brad said nothing, shocked. He hadn't heard from Ari in years, not since the night she took their two year old son by the hand and walked out the door. What the hell was she doing in Australia?
"No, I didn't know."
"Well then, I guess you also don't know that you now have custody of your son, Christopher. Until it is determined that Arianna is no longer a threat to herself, the boy must stay with you."
O O O
"Hi Dr. Shephard!" Natalie said cheerfully, dropping her backpack on the ground. "I heard you're going to fill water bottles. Can I help?"
Please say yes, please say yes, she thought. They'd been on the island over a week; rescue had to be coming soon. She refused to lose hope. She also refused to leave the island without getting to know her father. Hiking in the woods would give her a chance to get him alone.
"I don't know Natalie, it's a long hike and the bottles are gonna be heavy once they're filled. I can't let you get hurt, you're parents would kill me when you get home. And we still don't know what's out there."
She frowned. "Please Jack? My parents used to take me hiking up in the mountains; I know I can handle it."
He still looked wary. She wanted to argue her case, but before she got a chance, Brad approached the group. "Hey Jack! Filling water bottles? I'll come with you. Natalie, could you watch Chris for me?"
Natalie cringed. I hate my life… The idea of watching the kids again was wholly unappealing. Why didn't they ask Mia every once in a while? She did absolutely nothing useful around camp!
"Actually, Natalie's coming with us," Jack said, grinning at her reaction to Brad's request. "But you're more than welcome to join us."
Brad nodded, "Give me a second and I'll be ready. I'll see if Hurley or McKenzie minds keeping an eye on Chris."
"Thanks Dr. Shephard," Natalie said, packing the empty bottles in her bag.
"You know, you can call me Jack. Everyone else does," Jack said, zipping his own backpack.
I'd rather call you dad…
O O O
If there was one positive to island life, Jay decided, it was the crystal clear water that surrounded the beach. Diving underwater, he closed his eyes, allowing himself just thirty seconds of relaxation. He felt all the tension in his body wash away. He forgot Jack, forgot Christian, forgot the façade that was Elliot Fox.
The need for air overtook him, and he emerged from the water. He glanced around him quickly before he exited the water. The coast was clear. Jay walked through the water towards his clothes, which were laying on a rock. After drip-drying a few moments, he pulled his jeans on.
"Damn double-oh-seven, what happened to you?" Sawyer drawled, appearing from seemingly nowhere. "Looks like one of them polar bears attacked you."
Jay stifled a groan. Part of it was because Sawyer's apparent new nickname for him hit so close to home. The other was that he hated people seeing his scars. His chest and back were covered in them. Granted, it came with his line of work, and each had a particular story that he kept close to his heart. But when people saw them, it lead to questions, and that lead to more lies. He told so many damned lines.
"Tractor accident, when I was a kid," he replied to Sawyer.
"Hate to see what you did to the tractor," The blonde haired man was staring at him, as if trying to piece the puzzle together. It was clear that Sawyer knew that there was more to the story.
Lucky for Jay, though, loud shouts in a language he didn't understand drew his attention away. He saw the Korean man flying across the beach on a crash course with Ryan. Fists were flying, and in a matter of seconds the younger man was on the ground.
"You gonna help me take care of this?" Jay asked.
Sawyer smirked. "I think you've got a handle on it Die Hard."
O O O
Ryan threw three logs onto the signal fire, drawing his hand back quickly as the sparks flew into his face. Nearby he saw Sayid leaning over a table filled with electronics, hooking wires and batteries together. "Figured out how to get us off the island yet?" he asked.
"I have an idea. It is too cloudy to try it today, but perhaps tomorrow," Sayid said.
Ryan nodded, his eyes sweeping over camp looking for some other way to be useful. For the most part, people were relaxing, and he couldn't blame them. Today was the first day in a while they hadn't had to worry about a shortage of food and water, or figure out how to take care of dead bodies. The beach was entirely peaceful. Despite this, he kept seeking something to do. He hated sitting around, twiddling his thumbs as they waited for rescue.
From the medical tent, he saw Katherine emerge. She was helping the man from the jungle toward Lalah's tent, where the extra clothes from the crash were being stored. At her feet, Lizzie was tottering, grabbing at her legs, and making it difficult to walk. Might as well offer a hand, Ryan thought, making his way over.
Just as he passed Shannon, who was sunbathing on the beach with her gargantuan bug-eyed sunglasses, he heard a loud shout behind him. Ryan had no idea what had been said, it definitely wasn't in English. The Korean couple perhaps?
He turned to see what was wrong, and was promptly tackled by the Korean man. His face was vicious, his shouts indiscernible. Ryan heard himself yelp in surprise, as sand filled his nose and gaping mouth. The man picked him up by the collar of his shirt, and punched him with a powerful fist in the face. Defend yourself! Pull yourself together and defend yourself. Ryan felt his own balled fist connect with the man's stomach, but it seemed to do no harm.
The voices of other survivors gathering around the fight rose up. He thought back to the other fights on the beach that he'd watched happen, never trying to really stop it, just gawking in surprise, waiting to see what happened. Yeah, never doing that again, he thought, kicking his feet to try and push himself out of the man's grasp.
"Get off him!" he heard Sayid cry out. Finally, the man was pulled off him. Ryan felt blood dripping down his nose. "Who's got the marshal's handcuffs?"
"I'll get 'em," Sawyer drawled. Jay had the Korean man in a chokehold. The southern man returned quickly, spinning the cuffs around one finger. Sayid grabbed them out of his hands and fastened them around the Korean man's wrist, and then to a piece of debris from the plane.
"What happened? What started the fight?" Jay asked, curious.
"Honestly, man?" Ryan said. "No clue."
O O O
"We're just about there," Jack announced, walking faster. "The caves are just over that hill. I know it's a bit of a long walk, but eventually we're going to wear down a path, and that'll make it a bit easier going."
Natalie easily kept place with Jack, and Locke followed right behind. Charlie, however, was lost in his own world, and it concerned Brad.
"You okay Charlie?" he asked.
A few moments passed before Charlie seemed lucid enough to even recognize that Brad was speaking. His eyes were watery and had bags around them, his hands were trembling. He recognized the symptoms instantly. Withdrawal.
"I'm fine, mate, just fine," Charlie snapped, sniffing loudly.
"No, you're not, you're—"
Crack! Charlie stepped on something that broke in half. Everyone froze in place. "Charlie, don't move," Locke said quickly. "I think you stepped on a bees nest."
"Well that's just bloody brilliant, isn't it?" he quipped, though his voice was quivering. Brad couldn't blame him. The prospect of being stung by an entire colony of bees was… well it was pretty damn unpleasant.
"Charlie, stand still, we're going to cover the hive," Locke said calmly, dumping the contents of his bag onto the ground.
"Have I ever mentioned my irrational fear of bees?" Charlie asked, gulping.
"I thought you had an irrational fear of velociraptors," Natalie whispered, edging away from the hive. Bees were flying out of the nest, covering the man's face, crawling abound in his hair, nose, ears.
Charlie was fidgeting, trembling, and Brad was ready to bolt the second the bees came out of the nest. "There's a ninety-five percent chance I'm allergic to bees… ouch!" He jumped off the nest in surprise at the sting on his neck, cracking the hive open wider.
The hum of bees grew and grew, reminding Brad of the anticipation-filled buzz of the crowds at the stadiums he played when the Dead Aces toured. As they flooded from the hive, Brad grabbed Charlie by the arm, dragging him after Locke deeper into the woods.
O O O
Brad sat in the office chair, tipping back and forth. His nerves were on edge. Staring at him from across the mahogany desk was the man who, if he wanted to, would let him get his son. He watched as Dr. Finkel shuffled through the files before him.
"Look, Doc, I gotta get my son. Please, these circumstances are kind of dire. I don't know what'll happen if I don't get him…" Brad pleaded his case, studying the doctor's movements.
It had taken him a long time to reach a decision regarding his son. Brad knew he had little experience in child rearing, and even less in being a dad. But if he refused to take care of the child, the next logical choice would be to send the boy to stay with Arianna's family- and they hated Brad for what he did to their daughter.
Brad may not have been up for dad of the year, but he knew Ari well enough to know that as much as she hated him, she would never turn their son against him. Ari's parents, and especially her damned brother Shawn, were another case. He couldn't let that happen.
Not only that, but his relationship with Chris was like his relationship with his father. Brad hated his father. He didn't want Chris to hate him. And he didn't want to turn into his father.
"No, absolutely not," Dr. Finkel said resolutely, shaking his head.
"Oh c'mon Doc! Why not?" Brad waited for Dr. Finkel's response to his question.
"I'm sorry, but you are contractually obligated to stay here for the sixty day period you signed up for. You're only forty-five days in."
"Yeah, but I have to take care of my son. I might not want to, but hey, that's life." Brad was not going down without a fight.
"No. Dr. Christian Shephard and his son Jack are good friends of mine, and I trust their judgment. You can't leave."
Brad coughed slightly before speaking again. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let's not think about me for a minute. It's my fault that my ex-wife and son are in Australia now. I barely even got to know my son when Ari and I were together! I drank, I did drugs, and let's not forget all the women that I cheated on her with.
He felt tears running down his cheek. Even he hadn't realized how emotionally invested he was in getting his son back. "When I first met Ari, she was so happy. Y'know, you could turn off all the lights in the room and still see her. And I… I threw it all away. The only thing I want is to fix all the damage that I caused, and get to know my son. Please."
The doctor sighed. "Alright Brad. But you have to promise that you won't do drugs or drink, and you'll have to attend an AA meeting once a week upon your return to LA."
Brad paused to weigh the decision. "Sure. I won't drink, use drugs, or get high again. It'll be tough, but I can do it. I'll be living a clean and sober life from now on."
Dr. Finkel shook his hand and wished him luck. Brad rose and walked out of the office, mentally preparing himself to meet the son he never knew.
O O O
Senna was out at the dance studio. Kim had gone out with, Emily, to visit Alex, who missed her boyfriend Karl and couldn't figure out how to tell Eric and Kit that she wasn't interested in them. Or something like that. Alice had only been half-listening when Kim had babbled for about fifteen minutes, filling her in on the mysterious island native gossip and drama. Seriously, it's like a bloody episode of Hollyoaks. And I hate that show.
The street through the center of town was clear. Life seemed at a standstill. The only question left in her mind was how long the quiet would remain. It had been almost four days since she'd had chance to meet with Kate and discuss their escape plan.
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the handle. There was a knock on the door. Alice nearly jumped out of her skin. Pull yourself together woman! You lived among headhunters for a week, you can handle these people!
She opened the door. "Can I help you?"
"You're Alice, right?" the young man asked. He pushed his way into the house without waiting for permission. "I'm Eric Becket, known to the people here as Eric Rom."
"Senna and Kim are out right now. Do you want me to let them know you stopped by?" He needed to go, and fast. Alice had to see Kate.
"Nope," he replied, tying a black bandanna in his curly blonde hair. "I'm here to see you."
"What?"
The boy smiled. "You want to get back to your people. I want to get the hell of this island. We have a lot in common, and I think we could help each other."
Alice said nothing, unsure if she could trust the boy. Call her a pessimist, but if these people had no problem kidnapping her from the beach, she could believe they would send a spy to try and find out about her escape plan.
"I know you probably don't trust me, but think about it. Cassie and I don't belong here. We're not here by choice. Talk to Kate and decide if you want to take a chance. I live in the house two up from you. Ethan is off on a mission right now, so just sneak by when Senna and Kim are out. Okay?"
Eric left as mysteriously as he had appeared. The existence of allies was a good sign, but she'd have to talk to Kate. Glancing out the window, she saw several people out in the streets chatting away. There goes today's chance As Alice stepped back into the living room, where she'd found a copy of Mary Leakey's autobiography, one thought passed through her mind.
Why on earth did the name Ethan sound so familiar?
O O O
"Let's see this eye of yours, Ryan," McKenzie said, holding his chin tightly. When Lizzie started bawling in fear over the fight in camp, Katherine had asked her to make sure Ryan got cleaned up. Having completed a year and a half of med school before being forced to drop out, she was happy to oblige. She was overly qualified to tackle scrapes and bruises, but wasn't comfortable enough to attempt dealing with any other type of injury.
"This is gonna be black for a while." She'd seen black eyes in varying shades of purple and blue before. This was the first literal black eye that she'd seen.
Hands laden with bandages and bottles, Lalah approached. "I found what you were looking for, McKenzie. There's a bottle of alcohol from Jack, and some bandages that Claire found."
"Great, thanks Lalah!" she replied. "Prepare yourself, this is gonna sting like a bitch." Under her hands, Ryan's face scrunched up. She poured some of the alcohol, but he didn't make a sound.
"Aren't you a model patient?" she asked with a smile.
"Well, I have to make up for publicly getting my ass kicked earlier," Ryan shot back. Both their eyes traveled over to the piece of the wing to which the Korean man was attached. His wife stood nearby, the two wrapped up in a heated argument.
McKenzie couldn't help but contemplate the couple. They never seemed happy, barely talked most of the time. The woman was demure, almost subservient. The man was tough, violent. It all seemed like something ripped from a novel.
"I wish I could figure out why he attacked me," Ryan sighed as she put the last bandage on his face. "I can't figure it out for the life of me!"
"Did you look at his wife the wrong way? He's kind of overprotective," she suggested, moving away to close up the alcohol bottles. She didn't want to waste any.
He shrugged, shaking his head. "No! At least not on purpose! What kind of guy do you think I am?"
She smiled. "You're a good guy Ryan, anyone here would say that."
When she looked back at the Korean man, the glare he was shooting at Ryan would have made anyone question that statement.
O O O
Natalie let out a squeak of surprise when she felt the bee sting the back of her neck. It drove her to run faster behind Jack into the caves. She was surprised to find that the ground within the caves was smooth, and not rocky and jagged. Escaping from bees was much easier when she didn't have to worry about tripping over her own two feet.
Suddenly, Natalie felt her chest constrict. Oh no! Oh no, no, no. Not now. Not when Jack is giving me a chance to be part of the team. Her breathing was in short spurts, and she was wheezing. She tried coughing, but it didn't help. "Ja…Jack!"
The doctor heard her, and immediately stopped in his tracks. "Natalie? Natalie what's wrong?" He forced her to sit down on the ground, kneeling in front of her.
"Asth… asthma attack," she managed to sputter out before she coughed violently. She felt her whole body shaking. "Inhaler's in bag."
Immediately, Jack grabbed the backpack from where she dropped it and started shuffling through water bottles. "Got it!"
Natalie grabbed it from his hands, placed it in her mouth, and pressed the button. Breathing deeply, she began to feel her lungs opening up again. Slowly, she paced her breathing until she felt normal. "Thanks," she sighed, leaning against the cave wall. She glanced down at the inhaler.
"Do you get a lot of asthma attacks?" Jack asked, taking a seat next to her.
"Sometimes. Depends on what I'm doing. Pollen can sometimes trigger them, and stress from school. And apparently I can add running away from killer bee attacks to the list. I've been getting them since I was little, so now they don't even bother me."
Jack nodded. "You stayed calm. Most people would freak out. It's impressive." He stood up, offering a hand to help her up. "Let's look around, I have an idea."
"What is it?"
"I'll tell you after we've looked around. I have to see if it'll work first." Natalie smiled, excited to be the one helping Jack.
The caves were surprisingly bright, the sunlight reaching deeper than she would have expected. Walking along the wall, Natalie saw a crevice that seemed to reach back farther than the wall. It was wide and open. She moved forward, looked up, and shrieked. Two skeletons were lying side by side, wrapped around each other in an eternal embrace.
"What's wrong?" Jack asked. Behind her, there were footsteps, and Locke, Brad, and Charlie entered the cave.
"Bodies… there are skeleton's here. They just surprised me."
"How long do you think they've been here?" Charlie asked.
Jack shrugged. "Maybe forty or fifty years, judging on the decomposition of the clothing." Reaching into the small sack that each skeleton had, he found two perfectly round stones, one black and one white.
"They're our very own Adam and Eve," Locke commented.
Charlie grunted. "Yeah, well they give me the willies." Natalie agreed silently.
"You know there's a lot of debris outside," Locke continued. "Why don't Brad, Charlie and I stay and take a look around, see if there's anything useful. Natalie and Jack, you two can fill the water bottles and bring them back."
"Sounds good. If you find any drugs, definitely grab them," Jack said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Charlie flinch at the word drugs. Jack picked up his bag, and Natalie followed him out of the cave.
"So will your idea work?" she asked.
"Yeah, I think it could."
"Are you gonna share?" she asked with a smile. Ahead, she could see the fresh water Jack had talked about. The pool was everything she imagined a body of water on an island would look like. Crystal clear, surrounded by ferns and perfectly eroded rocks of a deep red color. Grabbing the first water bottle, she leaned over the water, filling it up.
"I think we should move to the caves," he said.
"What!" Natalie dropped the bottle into the water. She grabbed it just in time to keep it from floating away.
"The caves will provide us a good shelter from the rain. We're closer to fresh water here, as well. There's no mile long trek to and from the beach to get it. The sun is shielded, there's less of a chance of polar bear attack. It just makes sense," Jack said, excitement growing in his voice.
Natalie couldn't agree with him at all. Leaving the beach would be giving up on rescue. To abandon the signal fire after only eight days? It was like giving up all hope of ever getting home.
"Jack I don't know…"
He cut her off. "Just think about it. It's really the logical thing to do."
Natalie wasn't so sure that was true.
O O O
"Advil, amoxicillin, dilatin. This guy had a whole pharmacy in his bag!" Brad exclaimed, pulling out the drugs, as well as an additional water bottle and a few granola bars. The wrappers were still intact, so he figured they were still good.
Charlie carried over another bag, hands still shaking. "You were in the band Driveshaft, weren't you?" Locke asked nonchalantly. "I'm a big fan. Loved the first album, second one not so much. I own the concert DVD too."
"You… you recognize me?" Charlie asked, looking thrilled that someone finally recognized who he was.
"Yeah," Locke replied. "I also recognize withdrawal when I see it. How long have you been clean, Charlie?"
Charlie was gaping now. Brad, too, was impressed. Locke seemed like the kind of guy who kept to himself in the back woods of some forest-y state. That creepy guy all the kids avoided because he was a vampire or a werewolf, or whatever legend they thought up.
"Only… only since the crash. I lost my stash in the plane bathroom, I've been meaning to look for it, but I didn't want to slack off around camp. I wanted to be useful," he confessed, being entirely honest. Brad had to give him credit. Had he still been hooked, he would have been searching high and low until he found it.
"Maybe it's a sign," Locke said quietly, as he pulled one of the large Life Water bottles from a bag, along with an unopened bag of Doritos. "Maybe it's fate's way of telling you it's time to quit."
"Maybe," Charlie said. "I dunno… I'm kind of dependent on them…"
Brad smiled. "That would be the definition of an addict, Charlie." He hoped his words conveyed how much he understood Charlie's situation.
"How about this. I'm gonna send Brad to go find your stash in the cockpit, and I'll hold onto it for you. I'll let you ask me for your drugs three times. The third time, I'm going to give them to you. I think you're a lot stronger than you know, a lot stronger than the influence of the drugs. Maybe this'll prove it to you. Is that a deal?" Locke stuck out his hand.
Charlie nodded, shaking the older man's hand. "It's a deal mate."
Brad found himself smiling. He only wished he'd had someone like Locke to kick his ass into quitting before his three overdoses nearly destroyed his life.
O O O
"Hi Polly? It's Brad Donegan again. Listen, I had to make a quick stop to take care of some business before I come get Chris. I'll be there around five? Ok, great. Thanks. I'll see you then." Brad snapped his cell phone shut, and stared at the home before him. It was a nice, middle-class type of house- two stories, shuttered windows, an expansive front porch. Not the type of place where one would encounter a psychic.
There was a second car in the driveway, he assumed the current clients. He had, after all, show up without an appointment. Leaning against the hood of his car he waited for them to be done. A few months ago, he would have counteracted this boredom by getting high while he waited. But not now. He'd come too far to let it get the best of him again.
Twenty minutes later, the front door opened, and a young, pregnant woman walked out looking agitated. In her hands she carried an envelope that she studied intently. Her hair was a bright blonde, just like the woman in his dream.
That's so weird, Brad thought. He wished the dream girl had a face, so he could see if they were the same.
As they passed on the front steps, Brad moved aside to let her go through. Behind him, he heard the car door slam and the engine turn over. The blonde was leaving. Firmly, he knocked on the door.
A slight, balding man answered the door looking nervous. In the living room the clock on the wall chimed three, and Brad hoped he could get all the information he wanted and still be able to pick Chris up on time. "Can I help you?"
"I don't have an appointment," Brad began. "But I've heard your one of the best psychics in the world. I need your helps, I've been having these dreams—"
Mr. Malkin held up a hand indicating that he understood. "Don't you worry. Step inside, I'll close the door, and we'll chat."
Taking a leap of faith, Brad did just that.
O O O
At the edge of the forest, Ryan hacked away at a large piece of bamboo with the makeshift hatchet that Sayid had devised. Certainly, it was helping him get out the anger he felt toward the Korean man for attacking him in front of the camp. He felt bad for the guy, being handcuffed to the plane in front of everyone, but Ryan was still trying to figure out why he'd attacked him.
"Hello Ryan," he heard a woman say, a voice that he didn't recognize at all.
Looking up, he saw the Korean woman standing in front of him. Holy shit, I'm hallucinating. What a mind fuck.
"You don't speak English."
Wow, way to start a conversation there buddy, he admonished himself.
"My husband doesn't know I speak English. Please don't tell him."
Ryan nodded that he wouldn't and she continued. "My name is Sun. I know why my husband attacked you today. That watch you are wearing? It belongs to him, it was given to him by my father to deliver to a man in Los Angeles. That delivery… well, it's a question of honor for him. He takes his job very seriously. The whole matter will be settled if you could just return it to him."
Still in awe that she was speaking English, he just nodded. He'd found the watch on the beach. There was no use in letting it get destroyed since it was a perfectly working, not to mention obviously expensive, watch. "No problem."
Swinging the hatchet over his shoulder, he walked out of the jungle into the sunlight where the Korean man was sitting. Ryan took off the watch and handed it to him. "Dude, all you had to do was tell me it was yours. Or just point at it or something. I would have gotten the hint."
Swinging down the hatchet hard, he cut the handcuffs in half, releasing him. Sharing a brief glance with the man, Ryan returned to the jungle, passing Sun along the way.
O O O
The first thing that hit Brad when he entered the cockpit of the plane was the ungodly stench of it all. If he'd thought entering the decimated mid-section to recover drugs for Jack was bad, this was forty times worse. Bodies were covered in maggots, skin hanging off, faces still contorted in their last, pain-filled expression. It was like a scene from a horror movie- one that was rated NC-17.
I can't believe I'm doing this. Locke has lost his mind. Seriously. Taking one last breath of clean air, Brad climbed up the tilted hull as fast as he could.
Charlie had said he'd dropped the drugs in the bathroom. He entered the cramped space, looked around. The Ziploc bag, filled with white powder, lay in plain sight on the floor. Picking it up, he stared at the substance that had controlled his life for so long.
This'll be good for Charlie. I'll just give this to Locke when I get back, and then I can help the poor kid work through his addiction problem. I've gone through it, I know what to expect.
However, a little voice in the back of his head had other ideas. Or you could hold onto it for yourself. You don't know Locke, maybe he just wants it for himself. As long as you have it, you know it'll be in safe hands. It's not like you're going to be tempted to use again. Right?
Lost in thoughts, Brad stopped suddenly when he realized he'd opened the bag and had cocaine on his fingers. "Shit!" he muttered, closing the bag and stuffing it in his pocket. Trying his best to forget it was there, he climbed back out of the plane and began the trek back to camp.
O O O
"So what seems to be the problem, Brad?" Malkin asked, ushering him to a seat.
"I've been having these weird dreams recently, and I don't have any idea what they mean. I'm on this island, there's a pregnant woman with blonde hair but no face and she's following a cloud of smoke. And she keeps telling me to save her, to save Aaron and Christopher. Now, Chris is my son, he leaves with my ex-wife. But the woman and Aaron… I have no clue who they are. And every time it ends before I can rescue them."
Malkin appeared to be thinking, and was removing a box of tarot cards from a drawer in the table. "Listen, no offense, but I really don't believe in this stuff," Brad said quickly, scratching the back of his head. "So no tarot cards, no tea-leaves, no incense. Just a hand reading."
"I need to see your hand to do that, Brad," Malkin said levelly. Brad complied, presenting his palm.
Malkin stared intently, his hands dancing over Brad's, following the lines, the crevices. There was a pregnant pause before the psychic drew his hands away in a panic. His eyes were alight in fear.
"Y-you need to protect her and the child. Only you can protect her!" Malkin whispered, panic evident in his voice.
"Protect who? My wife tried to kill herself, my brother-in-law hates my guts, I gotta take care of a kid I barely know, and the only thing you can tell me about my dream is that I have to protect her? No shit man, I figured that out when she said 'Save us!' Jesus Christ, no wonder the pregnant girl was so upset!" Brad exploded, knocking his chair over as he stood.
"Her name… it's Claire," Malkin mumbled. Brad didn't understand.
"What?" confusion was evident in his voice.
"This session was free of charge. I can see that you want to bring your son back to LA. Here are two tickets to Oceanic Flight 815. Sydney to LA. Take them, please!" Malkin really didn't give him a choice, shoving them into his hands.
Brad walked out of the house, looking back only once. He took a seat in the rental car, shaking his head in awe over what just occurred. It's all bull shit, man. Don't take it seriously.
His cell phone rang, and he picked it up, expecting it to be Polly. "Hello Brad," a deep male voice said.
"Who is this?"
"Mr. Donegan, we have your father. If you ever wish to see him alive again, we want information on the Island." Brad massaged his forehead with his free hand, his nerves on edge. He hadn't talked to his father in years.
"This Island? I have no idea what you're talking about."
"There's a black van heading towards you. It'll be there in twenty minutes. The people inside are armed, and will kill you and your son on sight if you do no cooperate. Understood?" The voice sounded sinister, foreboding.
Brad wasn't about to wait around and find out who the voice was. He fastened his seatbelt and revved the engine, and sped away from Malkin's home. First to get Chris, and then to catch this Flight 815 to LA. He'd be safe there.
O O O
"Did you find Charlie's drugs, Brad?" Locke asked as he pressed the knife into a thick piece of wood. The bark had been stripped away. He was carving something.
"Yeah John. I found them. I couldn't bring them back though. The plastic bag had fallen into the toilet during the crash. Whether Charlie asks for the bag back or not, the stash is destroyed. Unless, of course, he snorts vomit on the side."
Locke laughed, though Brad still squirmed a bit. The look in the older man's eye seemed to betray that he knew Brad was holding back information from him. "Well, just don't tell Charlie, alright? He needs to prove to himself he can survive without the drugs. I have an idea of how to do it, but he's gonna have to believe we have them. You can keep a secret, right?"
Brad nodded his head emphatically. "Yeah, no problem!"
"Good, now why don't you get back to your son? I heard he's taken a couple million dollars from Hurley playing backgammon today. Have a good night, Brad."
Did I just get dismissed? he thought, as he walked away. He stuck his hand in his pocket, and felt the tiny plastic bag. Just a little, it's been so long… no! I've come too far for that! But it'll only be once. When Charlie beats his addiction, then I can get rid of it. Locke only needs it until Charlie's cured…
He pulled the tiny bag out of his pocket, staring at the tiny crystals that seemed to glow in the firelight. Glancing left and right, he began moving towards an isolated spot in the jungle. However, at the last minute, he put the bag back in his pocket, and continued toward his tent to get Chris ready for the move to the caves.
This is not going to get the best of me. It took too damn long to kick the habit, I am not going back there again.
O O O
"Last trip Natalie, you coming up to the caves?" Jack asked. The doctor had announced his plan to the entirety of the camp upon their return, offering them the option of staying or going to the caves. The beach camp had grown smaller since the morning. In addition to Hurley and the Korean couple, Katherine and Lizzie, Brad and Chris, Jason, and Ryan had all chosen to move to the caves.
It's a good chance to get to know your dad, the little voice in her head reminded her.
"Thanks, but no thanks Jack. I can't do it," she replied.
A look of concern passed over his face. "I'm worried about you being on your own. I know you can handle a lot, but you're still just a kid. Someone should be looking out for you."
"And there will be people," she replied. "Lalah's still here, and Jay and Sayid. I'll stick with them. Don't you worry."
He took a seat next to her, glancing over his shoulder to see if the people he was leading to their new home were ready. "Why stay here?" he asked. "It's safer at the caves, the water is right there. What's so appealing about the beach?"
She sighed. "If we move to the cave, it's like we're giving up on getting rescued. I don't want to give up hope yet. So I'm gonna wait it out here, at least for now. Besides, if the rescue boat comes, do you really think Sawyer's gonna run up to the caves and let you know?"
Jack laughed loudly. "I guess not. What would I do without you Natalie?" He stood, prepared to leave. "Be careful, okay?"
"I will. And don't go and get yourself injured either, you hear?" As he walked away, Natalie watched him gather the troops moving to the caves. She kept watching until the last backpack disappeared in the jungle, and then went to sleep.
Hey All! Hope you enjoyed the chapter. I haven't spell checked/grammar checked as much as I'd like, but I'm leaving on a week long vacation in five minutes (literally) and wanted to post this before I leave. If you see any major errors, PLEASE let me know, so I can fix them when I get back. I'll be doing more extensive grammatical edits then. Thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter, and those of you who submitted characters. I'll be working on the next chapter while I'm away and hope to have it up soon. Leave reviews so I can smile when I get back! All the best- Jac
