Chapter 25 - Bad Cigarette Smoke

The knots in her stomach wrenched tighter as she crept closer to the front door. Nervously, she tugged the paper, jerking it open; she stretched it out in front of her face and read the name with precise concentration, rolling her eyes over each letter.

She swallowed a breath.

The sound of the screen door creaking open startled her, as the blond woman, wearing a blue bathrobe, stood at the top of the stairs peering out at her from the screened in porch. Her face lined with a mixture of curiosity and aggravation.

Sarah stared at her from the bottom of the stairs, shifting her feet timidly. She sucked in thick, fearful gulps of air. She was here. She was standing in the yard. She was standing in front of her, but Sarah's mouth was frozen and her vocal chords locked closed. She stood at the bottom of the stairs, blinking wide-eyed as the woman glared from above.

" Who are you? " The woman demanded. " What do you want? "

Her memory brought her this far, but was sketchy, at best, beyond this moment. Why was she there? She was sure it had something to do with something she had seen or heard. What did she want? It was all so fuzzy.

She sat upright dangling her legs, hands flat beside her. Her eyes flicked over the cold white walls. She wished she could remember more. It seemed on the edge of her mind … but miles away.

"Did you hear what I said? " Ben prodded.

Her eyes drifted downwards, as she slid onto her feet and wandered aimlessly towards the door. She glanced out of the small, checkered window. Two months? What did that mean? If Sayid were still alive, he would come for her … unless he thought she were dead. If it had been two months, then he might have believed that. But if he were … She refused to consider the alternative.

Just outside the window was a dark steel wall. She heard the creaking sound above her and sighed.

"Laren? " He called from behind her.

She flipped around and glared at him. "Yes … Henry … I hear you. "

His mouth dropped open slightly in an expression of surprise. She lifted her chin as she straightened her shoulders. "Well, that is the name you went by when you were in the hatch … isn't it? The name you gave Jack and Sayid? Oh, and Locke. "

He stared and then shook his head, propping his hands on his hips as she rolled out her interrogation. "What did you do to Michael anyway - To make him turn on them? Threaten him? Did you promise him something you wouldn't really give him? Did you enjoy watching him murder Ana and Libby? "

She had hoped to get a rise out of him. Instead, he watched her with the same bug inspecting qualities Jack once displayed. (Although there was a quick exchange of knowing glances between he and Juliet.) He was playing a game with her. They both were. That meant there was something they wanted. But what?

She felt a tinge of familiar apprehension set in, as the timid young girl inside attempted to drag this newfound confidence under submission. She swallowed the hard lump of fear and gave a smirk. "So. I've been lying here on this table for four months. That's what you said … Right? "

"Two months. " Juliet corrected. She lifted a hip and rested on the edge of the table, with her arms folded.

Sarah nodded. "Oh … right. Two months. "

She studied them, but their expressions had changed little.

"Well. " She blew out a slight chuckle. "I suppose I should be thankful Tom didn't throw me off the boat and leave me for dead. "

She closed her eyes as she heard the pop and pictured the quick flash of light in her mind. The last thing she saw were the stars twinkling above her. The same sky he was under, somewhere on the beach, unable to reach the boat in time. The last words spoken between them were bitter and angry on her part. How she regretted that.

She noted the look between them - Ben and Juliet. It was inquisitive, but also one of knowing. They both seemed confused. Yet, they were hiding something. (This much, she knew.)

Ben folded his arms. "What boat? "

She closed her eyes, pressed her lips together and shook her head. Then she sighed, staring at him. "What boat? Now … that's very funny. The one you took from Sayid. Oh … sorry. You weren't there. It was Colleen's group. "

"I know that Sun is dead ... She went overboard when Tom shot her - after he shot me. "

Neither of them responded. Ben remained standing, arms crossed over his chest. Juliet halfway sitting on the cot with one foot on the floor.

" … But Sayid and Jin were both on the beach. What did you do? Did you kill them too? Did you bring them here somewhere? Where are Jack, Kate and Sawyer? Hurley? "

"You're probably hungry. " Juliet interrupted rather oddly. The statement baffled Sarah.

"Yes, " Ben agreed. "I think perhaps you'll feel a little more like yourself after you've eaten. "

She stared wide eyed at the two of them - bewildered. Herself ? Then nodded with understanding. "Oh … so you wanna drug me now. "

Juliet smiled coyly. " No Laren. If we wanted to drug you … we would just drug you. We don't need to trick you to do that. "

She wasn't lying. If they wanted, they would just hold her down and drug her. They didn't need games or deception to do it.

" Fine. " She responded. " Whatever. I'm not hungry though. "

"No one's going to drug you. " Ben sighed, shooting Juliet a warning look. He took her by the elbow and nudged her towards the door. Sarah watched them whisper.

Ben held the door open while Juliet slid into the corridor, then turning to Sarah, he smiled warmly. "I was very worried about you. You should know that you gave us all quite a scare. "

"Sure, " She scoffed. " God forbid you should loose another guinea pig. "

Ignoring her sarcasm, he stepped across the room and pulled out a hard metal chair. "Sit down. "

She stiffened, crossing her arms while holding a steely - eyed glare at him. The ever so predictable " gentle " Ben put on his best fatherly face as he drug his own chair out, sat in it and motioned her to join him. Reluctantly, she sat.

"You do remember when we were all out there in the jungle, don't you? " He began. When I tried to convince you to come home. You remember that … Yes? "

She answered with narrowed eyes. " Yea, that's when you shot me. "

His chest spread out in a deep breath, as he rubbed his chin. " You stepped on a trip wire. It was rigged to a rifle. You triggered it when you stepped on it. The bullet grazed the back of your head. You had a fever for about two weeks as the infection set in. When the fever broke, and the infection cleared, you didn't wake up. That was nearly two months ago. "

She scanned his face and, with profound puzzlement, detected no deception in his eyes or his voice. She felt as though she'd been punched as the room whirled around her. Could it be that maybe this was the part that wasn't real? Had Tom thrown her overboard after all and she now lie somewhere half-dead, in some feverish hallucinative state?

" So, no. " He continued. "I don't know anything about a boat. But you did dream while you were unconscious. Like you used to. "

She glanced back at him with shiny eyes. There were many dreams back then. There was the boy. The one with brown eyes. Sometimes he told her not to be afraid, when more often than not, she knew he was afraid.

If what Ben was telling her were true, then she had dreamt one long elaborate dream. If it were true - there were no survivors on the beach. No Sayid. No hatch. No numbers. No Sayid. None of it was real. The feel of the warm ocean water crawling around her ankles, pulling the sand from under her feet when the tide went out again. No Sayid. It was all in her mind. A fantasy.

Her stomach let out a famished growl. She flipped around thoughtfully, with a fresh round of protests. "So, if I've been lying here for two months, have you just been letting me starve? "

He shook his head as he swiped a growing frustrated palm over his face. "No, we've been giving you fluids intravenously … that is, until you managed to tear it out of your arm. We restrained you, but you woke up before we had a chance to put it in again. "

She rolled her eyes … intravenously … unbelievable. He received her skepticism and added. "Take a look and see. "

She cast a reluctant gaze to where she had been lying and caught sight of a bag hanging off a pole. She scowled, grabbing her arm and holding it up to examine it. There were marks and residue.

"You've been through an ordeal. " He said, covering her hand with his. "But you're home now. Where you belong. ""With your family. "

She flicked a gleaming gaze into his face and felt a warm tear brim over and spill onto her cheek. Had she really dreamt the last seventy-two days of her life, woken up and found herself in prison - again? The last flame of fight within her flickered as she took the entire expanse of it in. She could have done anything knowing that at least one person loved her. That could have carried her through anything.

But it wasn't real ? How could HE not be real?

She drew herself out of the chair and wandered across the room, finding herself staring back out of the window. She caught site of her reflection. The wide hazel eyes wet with tears. She ran a finger down the white strip of hair, she remembered the first moment she saw his face to the last words they spoke. She had left him in anger.

How could HE not be real ?

Her mind raced with a sudden awareness. An answer overlooked for his shrewd speach, how he cunningly slipped her under his thumb. If he convinced her ... If she believed that she simply conjured this up in her mind, dreamt it, then she wouldn't fight him. She would loose all hope and withdraw back into her solitude. She would believe there was nothing out there to run to.

No one to run to.

He would have taken away any spark of hope that may still be glimmering within her. She turned; raising her eyes to his, and spoke calmly. "You know, I heard someone say once that hope is a dangerous thing to loose … to take away from someone. "

She began a slow pace around the room, wheels churning in her mind.

Ben sat with a controlled quietness, while his eyes followed her. She turned to look at him. She once called him her father … But it was a lie - just like most of everything he was telling her now. He would never be trustworthy. He would never truly be honest. His expression revealed a surface sincerity with a brooding ulterior motive underneath. His answers always controlled, yet reeked with manipulation.

"Isn't it better… " He responded to her, raising himself out of the chair. " … To accept reality than trying to grasp a false hope? "

Her brow turned into a downward scowl as he moved towards her.

"There's that look again. " He went on, smiling gently. "Honestly, what good is clinging to something that was never real?

She turned her head away from him as he drew closer. "Look around you Laren … Breath the air. "

"This is real. "

He took her hand in his. "I am real. "

"I'm your father and this is your home. "

"That's real. "

She fought back as her body responded to the swelling emotion under her skin. The churning of her stomach, her lip trembling, face twisting from the familiar sense of vulnerability. She sighed, hating herself for letting him get to her. Why was she fighting so hard? Could she be a fool for thinking there could be something for her outside all of this? Where were the deep blue skies now ? The golden sun that smiled down on her in bright yellow and orange hues? The full moon, shining among diamond stars, over the flickering ocean waves?

His arms reached around her and pulled her to him as she dissolved into tears.

" There now, angel. Everything is fine. "

Somewhere out there her friends were walking under the same stars, the same sun and moon.

Somewhere

She knew that whether she had dreamed the past month, or not, this moment was more artificial than any thing she could conjure up. She knew it. Yet she cried in his arms like a little girl. It was unfair ! She wasn't supposed to hate herself. Punish herself for that place inside of her that wanted him to be truthful … sincere.

The big white door squeaked open and Benjamin walked through it holding a pink cake with candles on top of it. Flickering, yellow flames glowed warmly over them. She thought it was strange how the flames appeared to just float ... like magic. Hovering there above the multicolored sticks of wax.

"Happy Birthday, Angel. " He smiled holding it close enough to blow out the candles. She puckered her lips and drew a large breath of air. She thought about how she would extinguish them all with one big puff this time. Filling her lungs with as much air as she could, she released it, only to find that the flames were already gone before a single puff of air ever reached them, and the little candles sat there, perched on top of the cake, with tiny black smoldering wicks.

"They're already out. " She said plainly, and then frowned.

Ben knelt before her. He flicked his eyes between her and the cake, in profound consideration. She tilted her head. "What's the matter Daddy? "

His eyes flicked over her face for a moment, and then he stood up. "Oh nothing's wrong. Daddy's just thinking about how big you are now. You're growing up so fast! "

She smiled and stood up straight, holding her chest out, and her shoulders up. "I am? "

He chuckled. "Yes, but not too big for birthday cake. Now come over here and have some. "

He watched her eat, saving the shell of icing for last. Her long chestnut hair fell in ringlets to her waist. A sad expression crossed her eyes as she picked at the icing.

"Don't you like the cake? " He questioned.

She gave a long heavy gaze at the door and then looked up at him. "It's okay. But … "

"But? "

"Why can't I go outside? Why can't I see what's out there? Aren't there other kids? "

He sighed, picking up her plate. "We've talked about this before. "

He knelt on one knee, eye level with her, and held her chin in his hand. "You're a very special little girl. Not like them … It's not safe for you out there. "

She gazed a longing stare at the door, then dropped her head and whispered. " But I don't want to be special. "

It was just a puff of memory like so many others - like puzzle-pieces in her mind.

She lay staring up at the matching white ceiling, unable to close her eyes. Ben had returned her to her old room and had left hours ago. A tray of cold food sat on the little table across the room - untouched. She heard the sounds above her. The whales sang sad refrains, as the ceiling creaked and groaned under the weight of the water. Maybe in their own way, they too were crying out for freedom.

"You do remember to count, don't you? " The voice startled her and she leapt up, stumbling off the edge of the bed. The fall seemed in slow motion as she greeted the floor with a thump, knocking the breath out of her on impact. Lying face down, she pondered the thought of getting up or staying where she was and ignoring what she had just heard. Just like a child who hopes that perhaps the monster won't see her if she lies perfectly still and silent.

"Sarah? " The little boy called her.

Slowly she turned herself over and sat up. She scooted back against the wall, tangled in the sheets, and gawked at him. She had memorized his face from long ago. His sad brown eyes and matching brown hair. He was wearing faded jeans and a blue t-shirt.

Now this … this was an illusion - without question.

"You … you're not supposed to be here. " She whispered. "You can't be here. "

"But Sarah, did you forget me? You can't forget. " He pleaded with her.

She hadn't forgotten him. It came rushing into her mind, as quickly as river breaking through a broken dam ... she remembered him. The sad little boy she spent so much time with those years ago. He was her only friend for so long. He showed her her first glimpse of the world outside of small empty rooms with no windows behind locked doors. He taught her how to play Jacks and hide an' seek. He taught her how to ride a bicycle with his own bike.

She had missed him. But this is not where he was supposed to be. "I …" She trembled. "I …no. But… "

He smiled at her. "Don't be afraid. Just count and it will go away. "

She was standing on her feet now, moving towards him. "How did you …? "

"Don't forget Sarah. " He repeated as his voice trailed off and then he was gone. She stood in the place where he had been, eyes wide open. She went to the door and turned the knob, but it didn't move. She released a dissatisfied grunted as she stomped her way to the bed, pondering the stability of her own sanity. Hoping that perhaps this was some sort of drug-induced hallucination brought on by a trick of Bens or Juliet's.

She had calmed herself - after a few moments - and was finally ready to disappear under the sheets again, when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye.

Oh God, what now?

She recognized the brooding man immediately as a rush of emotion overcame her. He was pacing the room, and talking into the wall.

"Jack? " She whispered.

He continued yelling frantically. "Who are you? What do you want? "

She tried to stand up, but stumbled out of the bed and fell. "Jack, don't you know me? What are you doing here? Did you escape? "

Without warning, nostrils flaring, he grunted and thrust his palm into the wall, and then recoiled in pain. She struggled to get on her feet watching him pace and rub his hand. "Jack! Oh, my God …are … are you all right? Jack?! "

She took a timid step closer. He was clearly distraught. "Jack, I'm so sorry. I am so sorry for not telling you the truth from the beginning. About Michael. I am so sorry. Jack are you still angry with me? "

Standing there, she flicked her eyes around the room. What was he doing there? Was this some sick joke?

"How did you get in here? " She asked him, but he seemed to either be ignoring her, or unaware of her presence. "Jack? "

Shivers went through her when he suddenly jerked around and faced her. His eyes burning through her with intensity. "Jack is here. Find him. "

"Don't forget. "

She opened her mouth, but no words fell out of it, as she stood before him dumbfounded. The big white door flung open. Ben sauntered in and through him, then he disappeared.

She felt lightheaded, as her face grew pale. Ben dropped the tray he was holding and grabbed her elbow.

"Are you all right? Sit down. " He guided her to the chair by the table. " Here, have something to drink. "

He offered her some orange juice in a single-serve carton, but she hardly acknowledged him, staring at the place where Jack stood.

"You're as white as a sheet. " He said. "What happened? Were you sleep walking? Are you having the dreams again? "

The dreams … that's what he had called them. This boy was just something she had conjured up in her mind. That was his explanation. When she grew older, he referred to him as her imaginary friend. She need not be disturbed by that however, since it was normal for children to have imaginary friends.

She had always wondered, though ... was it normal for the parents to ask so many questions about the said imaginary friend?

She ran a hand through her hair, stood up and stared into his face. "No. No, I don't think so. But then those weren't just dreams. I don't know why you keep up the charade. "

"Oh Laren. " He frowned.

Her eyes strayed over to the place where both the boy and Jack had both stood, and found her will renewed. "I'm sorry … But I don't believe you. I don't believe anything you say. "

He shifted his weight, and then his icy blue eyes penetrated hers. "Well ... sweetheart ... you can choose to believe the Earth doesn't revolve around the Sun … but that doesn't mean it will suddenly stop. "

With a frustrated sigh, Ben eased into the chair next to her, propped his elbow on the table, and rubbed his chin. Penetrating, blue eyes curiously searched her face, though she hung her head, fiddling with her hands.

It was as if two people struggled inside her. One part wanted to withdraw into that place of solitude. That part would be obedient and submissive, never speaking out of line, never fighting, but giving in to her doomed future by letting go of her own will. The other side longed for independence, thirsting for a life free of dominance by Ben and the others. Desperate enough to fight for her future … her dreams.

He eventually lifted his foot to his knee, dropping his arm across the table and turning his head sideways. She had become a puzzle to which he could find no solution. "Alright. What's really going on here? Tell me. "

Her eyes drifted up to his as she pulled a foot under her, and then settled back down, but she remained quiet and unresponsive. He lifted his chin up, taking a breath, and then lowered it. Running his fingers through his hair, he seemed to be concentrating on his next move - she seemed to be leaving him with fewer with each altercation.

She flicked her eyes up, and with a heavy sigh, he made another effort.

"This boy. " He said. The one from your dreams … how old is he? "

This forced her out of her shell, scowling an angered glare at him. "I wasn't dreaming and I wasn't imagining him. "

"Fine. " He put his palm in the air. "Fine then, but when you see him … How old is he? "

Her attention trailed off to where the boy and Jack both stood just moments before, and there she rested her gaze. This was the first time she had seen him since she was a girl, and he was the same. A boy of 14 - perhaps 15, but no older. Pale skin and freckled nose.

She whispered in a meager tone of voice. "I don't know … He's a boy. "

She turned her face up to his pitifully. "He's just a boy. "

Ben nodded with a look on his face that said he was dropping a bomb, as he leaned in closer to her. "But look at you. You're a young woman … all grown up. Why is he still a boy? "

He let the question fall into the stiff air, floating between them like bad cigarette smoke. She heard him, but was stunned by his words. There was no answer. He should be a man now. With soft brown eyes and a crooked smile. She wondered if he would make the same silly faces.

But he wasn't a man - was he? She tried to digest what she had just heard. Tried to hear the reasoning. He'd been her only friend since she was a child … her only confidant - of course he was real!

She had held the Jacks in her hand; she had felt the pedals under her feet. How could it not be real? How? She stared at the spot in the room and could see him standing there. Heard his words. "Don't forget. "

If she didn't believe in something, she would be lost to everything.

She raised herself in the chair and lifted her head, meeting Ben's eyes squarely with her own. She had to believe, had to trust herself and not crumble under his soft oppression.

She opened her mouth, surprised with her own boldness.

"You want me to trust you, to believe you. Youhavenever believed me. Believed anything I've ever said. And if that isn't enough, you keep me locked up in this glorified prison - so I think I have good reason to doubt you. Yes, I'm all grown up - as you said - but youtreat me like a child. Well, I'm done. And it will cost me what it costs me. "

Then she drew a long heavy breath and spoke. "Take me to Jack. "