# 29 Home Sweet Home

"Their names aren't on the list, but there were special additions," Sawyer said to one of the people working the front desk. He handed her the new list with our names on it. "Here's all of their information." It was initiation day for the Dharma Initiative.

"Of course, Mr. LaFleur." The woman shifted her files and looked up at us. "Last name?"

"Jarrah. I'm Sayid Jarrah." Sayid answered.

The woman nodded and checked his name off. "Engineering." She thrust a jumpsuit and file toward him. "Here's your assignment. Welcome to Dharma. Next?"

"Rabinovich," I said, wondering what Sawyer had lined me up with for a job.

"Miss, I don't believe you're on the list." The woman looked me over once, then looked back down to her list. "You're definitely not on the list." She grabbed her walkie talkie and mumbled something into it. My heart skipped a beat. Sawyer wouldn't purposely leave me from the list, would he?

Sayid quickly stepped back towards the table. "Dear," he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. "Will you ever remember?"

I stared at Sayid blankly. The woman stared at us blankly. I was glad I wasn't the only one who didn't understand.

With a kind smile, Sayid leaned toward the woman. "Can you believe my wife can't remember her own last name?" He laughed. "This is Mrs. Jarrah." He kissed me on the forehead. "My love, one of these days you'll bounce a check if you sign it with your maiden name. It's been almost a month!"

"Oh, yes," the woman said, rolling her eyes. "Newlyweds. Fantastic. Don't think this is going to be a honeymoon. We're here to work." She pulled a file out and slid it toward me. "Anya Jarrah. Here you go."

"Oh," I said, "no jumpsuit?"

The woman stared at me. "Do you really think we'd make our teachers wear jumpsuits?"

I rolled my eyes. Great. Children.

***

The Dharma houses were nice, but nothing like we had in California. It felt a bit bizarre getting up and going to work every morning. Sayid seemed oddly content; fixing things, designing things, tinkering with parts and pieces of this and that. I had no particular love for teaching, but the kids were well-behaved and the day-to-day Dharma Initiative lesson plans were very specific.

We fell into a routine. Things weren't bad, but it felt a bit like playing house. Working for money we didn't need, doing jobs we knew wouldn't matter for the future of the Island.

Part of me still wondered whether or not we were actually here to help our friends, or if we were simply back on the Island because that's what it wanted.

****

The door slammed and I heard footsteps late one night.

"Sai?" I called from bed. I him moving about the house, and sleepily climbed out of bed. "Sai, what's going on?" I padded down the hallway and into the kitchen, where Sayid was hunched over the sink.

"I," Sayid paused. "I killed him," he said as he scrubbed his hands vigorously.

I blinked and assumed he was having a flashback. "Darling, let's just go to bed, okay?"

He shook his head. "No, Anya, tonight. I killed Ben tonight."

I gulped. "Ben? Little Ben? Kid Ben? Ben Linus?" I shot the questions out rapid-fire. I liked child Ben. He was a little strange, but he was smart and meant well. He was one of my students, and I'd felt a strange mothering quality for him. It was hard to connect him to the adult Dr. Linus we all knew, but Kid Ben wasn't evil, yet.

"Yes, Anya. I'm changing our future. We'll never have to be on this Island." The scrubbing continued. I peered into the sink. There was no blood.

"How?"

"Shot him," Sayid said. "It's all over. I don't know how, but things will change." He nodded frantically. I could hear sobs break his even breathing.

Knowing there was nothing to be done, I blankly walked back to bed where I walked through a thousand scenarios. A child had been killed. Perhaps people would assume it was the Hostiles, or perhaps Sayid had been sloppy and the finger would come back to the Oceanic 6.

Either way, Kid Ben was dead and things were bad for us.