A dark unfathom'd tide
Of interminable pride—
A mystery, and a dream,
Should my early life seem;
I say that dream was fraught
With a wild, and waking thought
Of beings that have been,

Which my spirit hath not seen,
Had I let them pass me by,
With a dreaming eye!
Let none of earth inherit
That vision on my spirit;
Those thoughts I would control,
As a spell upon his soul:
For that bright hope at last
And that light time have past,
And my worldly rest hath gone
With a sight as it pass'd on,
I care not tho' it perish
With a thought I then did cherish,

- By Edgar Allan Poe

. .

Do You Believe in Destiny?
Chapter 41, Bright Hope Part 2

. .

Normal. Normalness.

How quick can someone with normalness adapt to these kinds of circumstances?

. .

Andrea chose to go with Milou. Frankly, she doubted she would make it back in one piece to the camp if she went with Janna to set up the antennas. Milou, though not very talkative, at least said more things than Janna, and Andrea could see that she tried.

Janna would go deeper into the jungle while Milou and Andrea took their antenna up to higher ground. It reminded Andrea of the time she and Kim journeyed with their radio, trying to contact someone, anywhere. It seemed like such a long time ago. But the instincts – the fear was still there.

"So, it was Penelope Widmore who sent you?" Andrea broke very awkward silence between them as they headed up the mountain, stepping over the bushes growing wildly on the ground.

"I thought I'd made that clear," Milou said without changing her expression one bit.

"Yeah," Andrea panted slightly. Milou looked like she was completely unaffected by having climbed up a mountain-side. "I was just wondering." With a side-glance she continued, "So… have you met her?"

Milou stared at the path in front of her. "No," she replied simply.

Andrea frowned, glancing at the woman again. "She employed you."

Milou broke her gaze, and looked away at the jungle far down below them. "And?"

Andrea huffed, shaking her head. "You really don't like me, do you?" she snapped, irritated from the long journey and from Milou's attitude and the fact that Kim –

"It's just my personality, I have nothing against you." Milou looked down, and under her breath she muttered, "Maybe I do now." Louder she continued, "Why does it bother you so much?"

"What?" Andrea asked.

Milou gave her a short side-glance. "Penelope Widmore."

Andrea didn't answer at first, tentatively she said, "Do you know my full name?"

"Eh…" Milou wetted her lips, looking at Andrea's wrist. "What's the time?"

Andrea looked down at the clock and stopped in her tracks. "Six o'clock… it was six o'clock fifteen minutes ago, too."

"Let me see," Milou walked over to her, and without a warning grabbed her arm hard. Andrea made a frustrated noise and slapped her hand away.

"Ow!" Andrea massaged her arm, even though it hadn't hurt. "You don't trust me?"

"Just. Let. Me. See."

When Andrea didn't do anything to give it to her, Milou glowered at her, and took off the watch from her wrist quickly before Andrea could do anything about it. She childishly skipped a few steps away.

"What the –" Andrea tried to get the watch back, reaching out with her hand but Milou slapped it away just like she had done.

Andrea made almost a growl-like sound and lashed out. She crashed into Milou, almost tackling her to the ground. Milou stumbled back and clawed at her arms to stay up on her feet. She dropped the watch and they both watched, clinging to each other, as it fell over the side of the mountain down to the trees below.

. .

Kim wasn't stupid. She knew she wouldn't make it very far. But she had hopes that Fox would hesitate, over think, and would be slow too so maybe – just maybe – she would be able to catch up to him, as he'd run away so fast.

"Fox!" she shouted into the trees.

She had gotten rid of Libby and Hurley, but she was sure they were going to venture into the jungle after her too.

"Fox!" she shouted again, now desperate. She froze, hearing something. It almost sounded like a yelp.

With her crutches she tried to make her way over the terrain. She felt a shot of pain on the side of her stomach, but tried not to think too much about it.

What she saw didn't surprise her so much.

Fox was trapped in a net, the one Margo and Zidler said Fred had gotten trapped in.

Kim sighed, almost smiling to herself. "You didn't answer when I shouted."

"S-smashed… move…" Fox got out. His arm had somehow gotten pressed against his face.

Kim blinked.

"Help…"

"Oh, right." Kim looked around, she let go of one of her crutches, winced at the pain, but didn't care as she looked for a sharp stone or anything on the ground.

"Why… a-after… m-me… m-m-moved… out…"

"Because I want to get rescued," Kim said, finding a gray stone that she doubted would work but she could at least try.

"Wha…"

"You told Hurley –" Kim stood up again, biting her lip as she leaned against the crutch, she waited until the pain was gone , or at least faded away a little, "– that you knew how to get us saved." She walked up to him, trying to somehow cut through the rope holding him up. She looked at him. "So… do you, do you know a way?"

"…Yeah."

Kim sighed, giving up with the rock. She looked around again, biting her lip harder at the pain on her back now. "How?"

It was kind of hard to keep up a conversation, but what else could she do? She hoped Libby and Hurley would come soon.

"L-long s-story."

"Everything is a long story with you," Kim muttered. "I'm going further in, I'll be right back!"

She went further into the jungle again; she could still see Fox, so hopefully she could be able to aid him if a monster attacked him or something. She found a smaller rock with a much sharper edge and returned, halting.

"This will hopefully work," Kim said. After a long time of trying to cut the rope she said, "This can take a while."

. .

Sean was resting his head on Claret's lap, mumbling to himself or to someone else – either way he was speaking gibberish. Sawyer was leaning next to the door, trying hard not to show how much he was in pain. Outside their hiding place (it was a small storage of sorts, Claret had glanced in the boxes and seen papers and papers and papers with names she didn't know and didn't want to know about) they could hear Ethan walking back and forth. Claret had a pile of boxes at her side, and she was terrified she would accidentally knock them over as she stroked Sean's hair.

"Sean is this way." Claret had said after they'd got out of the tunnels, looking like she wanted to take Sawyer's hand then, but she hadn't. There was too much lying between them. The way she'd interrogated him before, trying to act cold. She could tell him later that she hadn't meant it. But she knew he wouldn't believe her.

Sawyer had showed her a different exit, and to her surprise – it had led directly to the corridors in which Sean was hidden, Sven, and other things and people she didn't like to think about.

She had seen Ethan; he was guarding the corridors underground. His face was in half and horribly scarred. She'd heard it was Owen who did it.

Her back had hit the wall with a thud, as she'd desperately had tried to calm herself down. She couldn't think too much of what could go wrong because then she couldn't do this.

Ethan had heard the sound, but he'd gone the wrong way. And suddenly the door to Sean's room had been unguarded. When Sawyer had seen the state Sean was in – Claret didn't want to think about the way his eyes had gone dark. She also didn't want to think about whether Sean would ever recover or not.

So now they were trying to hold their breaths hiding there in the room, Claret praying that Sean would stop mumble, and hoping that nobody would hear.

"I don't have him. I can't bring him in. Sean's gone!" they heard Ethan shout into his radio. "Maybe three minutes ago – Juliet! Shouldn't we search for him?" Silence. "All right, I'll get Shephard. You better send some people down here…" They heard him grumble to himself, steps fading away.

"Feels like everything is just going according to plan," Sawyer muttered, standing up.

"So this is Plan B?" Claret asked. "We have Sean…"

Sean mumbled something about airplanes.

"…But now they're going to get Jack," she finished.

"Then we'll just have to get him before they do. And this is Plan C, remember?" Sawyer said, opening the door just an inch to check if it was clear. "We better get goin' –"

"Sawyer," Claret interrupted him. "There's no getting Jack."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Sawyer turned to look at her. "I know it won't."

"Jack… Jack's changed."She didn't mention that what Sawyer just said was the understatement of the century. Claret looked down at Sean, and raised his head so she could help him up. He was heavy, but she couldn't ask Sawyer to help her, not just yet. "And… and we shouldn't… and we can't…"

"You're rambling, Stacy. Let's go now before anybody gets down here." He walked over to her, taking some of Sean's weight off her shoulder as he took one of his arms around his own.

"No," Claret protested. "I mean, yes. We should leave." They dragged Sean out back to the corridor. "Away, back to the tunnels – and away from here. We can't take Jack with us. W-we can't."

"You got thirty seconds to give me a good reason."

"Well – he, uh…" Claret stuttered something incoherent. "He… you don't even like him! Sawyer, let's just go!" Her voice was high-pitched, and he turned to look at her hysterical face.

"You leave," he said to her. "You get the hell out of here. Follow the blood from the guy Jim's trail; try your best not to die. And don't switch sides again."

Sawyer went the way Ethan had gone, much slower, halting on his leg. It was still bleeding.

Claret now supported the weight of Sean on her own, and they both, just as slow, went to take the road back to the dark tunnels.

. .

Owen watched Vincent walk away from her house. She nodded at the guard standing on her porch before closing the door behind her. In her hand she held a not she was supposed to be memorizing. Owen dropped it in the hall (it landed on the floor behind her) walking towards her bedroom.

There were still shards of broken glass all over the floor. But the lamp had been removed. Carefully she walked over to the open window and closed the drapes as best she could.

"Lousy security," she heard a voice say behind her.

"Stop being so smug, a teenage girl broke into my house before you." Owen turned around, a piece of glass in her hand as a weapon. "She didn't last very long."

Bonnie looked like she was suppressing a laugh, she was leaning against the wall, the same wall Owen had been backing into when Eva had broken in. "A piece of glass," Bonnie raised her eyebrows, "really, Owen?"

"I can scream very loud too," Owen informed her.

"Bet you can." Bonnie took a step forward. "Bet that guard outside isn't here just for your protection. Bet they're watching us right now too."

"Then you just lost that bet," Owen said with a smile, "there's no one watching us at all right now. The cameras are fake. And we got all the time in the world. Now, do you want to know where Eva is or not?"

. .

Jim had a difficult time to find his way out of the tunnels. He was usually described by people as a very care-free person, and not in the complimentary way. But now he was counting up all his problems. He could barely see in the darkness, less follow the little trail Garrett had left behind (he'd lived for a long, long time, Jim knew that, so he also knew that there was a possibility Maddy's dad was a ninja, which explained everything.)

He was bleeding from a wound on his head, and by the way he felt dizzy he'd lost a lot of blood. Or he was dizzy because he'd just watched a woman bleed to death under his hands. It explained the tears rolling down his face. He wasn't sweating, but he refused to believe he was crying. He wasn't sad.

He'd fired a bullet at Lalah, at Lalah. He liked her. She was awesome in her own way. She was one of the few women in the world who wouldn't even flirt with him some way.

Jim was panting, and he stopped to fall down on his knees, breathing in fast, almost hyperventilating. He knew the feeling, and he swallowed hard. He heard the same usual music in his ears; he didn't even bother to try to think of anything else.

Jim was so screwed.

Not in the good way, but in the very bad way. The path to hell was supposed to be fun, not utterly devastating. Maybe he needed to re-calculate some things in his life.

Jim dragged himself up on his feet again. He had things to look forward to.

Like the forbidden area.

. . . .

Jim scratched the back of his neck, trying to not look as awkward as he felt. On his side Madeline – Maddy – was standing while he himself was sitting. It felt like she was his babysitter or something. At least she looked as lost as he felt.

He was sitting in front of their leader for asking about his father. He wondered where Ethan had run off to, the liar.

"Could you leave the room?" Benjamin Linus, who was the leader, the man in charge, the boss, said.

Jim began to stand up.

"Not you! Maddy."

Jim looked to see Maddy's expression, and was surprised when he saw that she was looking at him. "I'll stay, I'm his…" She looked down at the notepad again, furrowing her brow as she tried to read. She sighed, and Jim knew she couldn't. She nodded to herself, making a decision as she turned to their leader. "I won't leave him alone with you."

Jim grinned. "She won't leave me alone," he whispered to Ben.

Maddy immediately looked like she regretted her decision.

"All right." Benjamin – Ben, everybody had nicknames (he really hoped no one would call him Jimmy), leaned back in his chair, and then told him the whole story.

Afterwards Jim stumbled down Benjamin's stairs down his porch. He would've fallen if it weren't for Maddy catching him in the last second. She helped him sit down on the last step.

Jim was trying to convince himself that the real reason he'd come to the island was to work, and that his father was just a bonus. But work didn't feel as exciting anymore as Ben had told him that they didn't really need biologists, and that he was supposed to be working in security, leading field missions or whatever. Jim hadn't listed too much after the whole: "Your father doesn't want to see you" speech.

"I know your father," Maddy said, breaking through the wall of depressing thoughts. "Richard Alpert. He's a very good friend of my parent… uh. I never knew he had a son."

"Okay."

"Maybe… maybe he's… worried to meet you."

Jim doubted that. He stared at a pair of trees by the opposite house, across the green grass. And saw a figure there. He blinked. And the person was gone.

It'd almost looked like his father.

"Will you stand up and go with me?" Maddy asked him, regaining his attention back to her. "We missed the tour, but I can show you now, if you would like."

If his father needed some time before seeing him, then fine. Jim could wait.

He nodded, standing up, but not before taking Maddy's hand and making her swirl with a big smile on his face.

She looked a bit stunned.

"I just re-winded," he told her. "Hello, my name's Jim Tyberu Al. I'm very pleased to meet you. You have gorgeous eyes."

Maddy smiled.

. . . .

Eva wasn't locked up inside a tower.

Bonnie wasn't hiding inside of the forest, considering what'd happened the last time. No, Bonnie wasn't hiding at all, or well, more in plain sight than anything else.

She pushed her hair out of her face again, feeling a cold chill run through her body as she turned around, it was the fear – her palms were sweaty, it was almost like she was nervous. But Bonnie had trained for hours, days, week, for that feeling to go away when she was in front of the cameras.

Because Eva was very close, too close, if Bonnie took eight steps – reached out her arm, she would be able to touch her. But she didn't. And she actually couldn't, because there was a wall and a window between them still and the people inside, the guards, had probably seen her face and knew who she was and it wouldn't be like it was now: people simply glancing without taking care.

All they saw was one of them, perhaps some of them were slowing down – she was wearing a jumpsuit, not all of them were. But it wasn't too unusual. They couldn't know that there was a young guard who was supposed to be watching the back of the house, lying hidden behind branches by the edge of just the forest she didn't dare to go into, that Bonnie had stolen her outfit from.

Eva wasn't locked up inside a tower. She was surrounded by people (guards, armed guards) in a circle, and she was remarkable – high posture, defiant stare, and a stubborn almost-frown on her face that looked so much like Rosalie's it made Bonnie almost want to cry her name out just in case.

Why didn't they hide her better than keeping her inside a house? Bonnie wondered, maybe they were afraid, afraid of them. The way everyone was running like they'd all lost their heads – yeah, the Others were scared. They'd scared them. Just a few people, barely any weapons, they had been just an inconvenience in the beginning, like a nasty insect that just annoyed you and didn't do any harm. But now they were much more.

Bonnie was a standing target, but nobody noticed, because to some of them she was still that annoying insect. And they couldn't believe she would just be strutting around in their community without as much as a care.

But Bonnie wasn't that stupid, she had a weapon of her own. A weapon in the form of the woman being escorted over the grass by two men, a woman with one green eye and one blue.

Owen Chauncey didn't even look her way. But Owen knew Bonnie was there, that Bonnie was ready. And as Owen stepped inside the house on her way to Eva, she also knew that she could tell Vincent and the other guard that Bonnie was there and she would be shot on the spot – quickly. Bonnie was unimportant. She wasn't a priority, not like Eva. Owen had had her suspicions, but when she saw the girl there, looking at her without any fear when she stepped inside the room, she knew something else too. Eva was perhaps the most important thing they had, more important than Owen herself – in their eyes, of course.

"What's she gonna do, run?" Owen said, pretending to be clueless as to the reason why Eva was set under guard. It wasn't of fear she was going to escape.

"Try to talk to her, explain it all," Vincent reminded her.

"Dude, she's right there," Owen nodded at the girl but still walked over to her. Eva was standing up even though there was a chair; Owen sat down on it, looking up at her.

"I'm supposed to have a deep talk with you now," she told Eva, "even though you broke into my house and I have to admit, you were almost threatening back then. You see, Eva. There are some people here, who like you, have broken into this little nice place. And they want to take you away. And they – they…" She glanced Vincent's way, his usually warm eyes looked cold, and his lips were pressed together in a thin line. She continued, "they're bad people. They're kind of like me, a lot like me, they only care 'bout themselves. And they've killed, shot, raised a little more hell than there already is here. And now they're coming after you. You get that? These people are coming after you. And they're going to hurt you. And all… and all…" She swallowed. "All we want is to protect you."

Eva met Owen's gaze. "And who knows?" Owen whispered. "Perhaps they are watching us… right now… waiting for a chance to do something."

She tore her gaze from Eva, and looked at Vincent, who was glowering with anger at her last words. Owen wasn't the one for rehearsed speeches, she liked originality. She turned back to Eva. "So, girl of importance," she said, taking her hand, Eva tried to wriggle out of her grip, "you better stay put and be a good little soldier or the bad people are gonna take you or the bad people here are going to hurt you." Owen barely had time to smile before she was snatched up from her seat, and dragged out of the room fast. The door slammed closed. And Eva was still standing; now holding a note in her hand Owen has slipped her that she didn't dare to look at just yet.

. .

"We should put it on," Andrea said, nodding at the antenna. They were both too exhausted to fight more. They hadn't settled whose fault it was, and it would do no good. They'd reminded each other that they had a common goal.

"No," Milou replied. "Not yet."

But the current peace could be easily broken. "We have to put it on," Andrea spat, "we don't know the time. We have to chance."

"I know the time by looking at the sun," Milou informed her.

Andrea looked up at the sky, it was darkening, and there were clouds. "No, you don't. Milou, just have a little faith." She reached for the antenna.

"Having faith does you no good," Milou told her sharply, grabbing her hand, she let go immediately though, not wanting to cause another fight that ended with them screwing all the important things up.

"Maybe you need a change of perspective," Andrea told her and turned it on. She hoped it was going better at the beach and in the jungle.

. .

"I – I will kill that dog!"

Margo gasped, looking horrified.

"No, no, I was just – angry," Fred told her quickly, worried that she was going to go hormonal on him. "I don't kill animals. It just…" He looked down at the antenna, sighing at the sight of it.

The Labrador Vincent had come running at them. Fred had taken cover in fear of the dog, and Vincent had crashed into the equipment. The transceiver was working though, as best as it could. But Janna and Milou hadn't turned theirs on at time, and now it looked like he wouldn't be able to turn it on again either.

"It's not that bad," Margo took up a piece of wire, holding it up in front of his eyes to show it.

It broke in the middle.

"Oh."

Fred considered pulling out his own hair; it would give him a maniac evil nemesis doctor kind of look, and would perhaps make him feel better.

. .

Janna abandoned the antenna that she was just about to switch on, to bring out her gun shooting at the boar charging towards her. It hit, but it didn't stop running for that.

"Hell," she said. And to hell it would go. She climbed up the nearest tree, and saw the boar clamp all over the antenna, she heard it break.

She pointed her gun down again, her other hand curled around a branch. And she put a bullet in its snout.

. .

"That went well," Brian said after Flor hung up on him.

Shreyans, an irritated Other who had just spent a long time locked up in a closet (by Claret nonetheless) – Boone had actually laughed at that – had gotten patched up as best he could by a woman called Felicity Hale. And he had spent most of his time glaring at Brian, but now he was looking almost giddy.

Apparently, it was because he was finally in charge.

The first thing Shreyans did after being put in charge of the two of them, was to tell Felicity to get them to Shephard, while he himself would be trying to salvage what Claret (this made Brian flinch) destroyed.

Felicity immediately retorted, "I'm not a guard, Shreyans."

"Boone, go help Ethan with Shephard," Shreyans said with a sigh, he looked up, saw the suspicious look on Boone's face, and waved him over to his side. They both leaned in to whisper whatever they had to say to each other.

Brian didn't feel left out at all.

When they both left out to the open air, Brian could barely speak, being so overwhelmed. He was without chains. He wasn't free – but it was close, closer than ever before. But the air was wrong, too full of tension, the edgy looks the people were giving them, they were all in trouble and Brian knew the Others weren't used to be on the receiving line of attacks.

"What were you talking about? And with Shephard, did he mean Jack?" Brian tried to hold his voice steady, trying to ignore everything around them. The Others trusted Boone so well that they would let the two wander off on their own.

Just when he'd thought that, he saw that a guard, a man – Colby, he thought his name was, was stalking them. So they didn't trust them at all. That made more sense.

"Yeah, he meant the great leader Jack," Boone muttered. "And he was telling me to tell you that we have to help Ethan." He gave Boone a moment to process it, Ethan, the man who took Claire and Owen. "So, being an Other," Boone went on, "seems exciting, doesn't it? Thrilling. You'll live."

There was something very poisonous in the way Boone said the last word.

"What do you mean?" Brian asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know the answer. The guard Colby was still following them. Did Jack have his own house?

"You try very hard to keep yourself alive, is all I'm saying. Selling out your friends, just joining in on a hunch. What if I hadn't… you know, been with them."

"But you are one of them," Brian said.

"No, Brian." Boone sighed, and his face looked grim in a way that Brian only had seen glimpses of in their time of captive together. "I'm with them. Not one of them. It's wide ravine between those two."

Brian thought of what to say to that, when Boone went on speaking, clearly having a lot on his chest to get out. Now what Brian knew the truth.

"And you're not with them or one of them either," Boone said, making Brian look away, "they're just using you now to get what they want. They don't care at all about us. They just have us around because they can't let us go. Either you can fight or try to find some other way… I tried the other way. It's good, it's working. It's not for you." His tone then got lighter. "But I must applaud you on your conversation with Florence, good acting."

Brian didn't know what to do, so he shrugged and tried to accept the fact that Boone was not the same person anymore. He knew that. Brian wasn't as stupid as some would think. Saving Boone's life had come with a price. It was just that Boone had at least tried to keep up an act in front of him, in the cell, tried to pretend he was the same person as before, maybe a little more beaten up. He wasn't pretending now.

The door to what Brian assumed was Jack Shephard's house was wide open. Boone and Brian glanced at each other when they heard someone yelling really loud, followed by an angry answer.

They were shouting so much, that even when they were in the hallway (Colby stayed outside) they couldn't make out the words.

Brian tried to hold in his shock when he saw Ethan's face, taking a step closer to Boone immediately, to be on the safe side, but Boone, he took a step forward to scream, "What the hell's going on here?"

Brian turned to Jack who inhaled very loudly at Boone's words. It was strange seeing him. Brian knew he had been there, with the Others. He just didn't – it'd been a long time. And now Brian was standing next to Boone, who was next to Ethan, they were a united front against Jack Shephard and everything he stood for.

"You fighting? Don't you have anything better to do?" Boone looked at Ethan; Brian stared when Ethan (face split, looking like something out of a horror movie, which just made him more intimidating than before) shrunk, like he was ashamed.

Was Boone in authority? But that Other guard Colby had followed them – maybe it wasn't for Boone, maybe it was for him. He felt sick.

"Jack," Boone said, addressing the man on the other side of the room. "Did Ethan explain everything to you?"

"I –" Ethan began., before Boone interrupted him.

"I was talking to Jack."

Jack huffed, shaking his head at the whole thing. He had glanced at Brian when they entered the room, but he hadn't looked at him once more. Now, he was staring at Ethan as he said, "He did. And I was explaining to Ethan why –"

"Honestly, I don't care," Boone said tiredly. "Just come with us."

Jack made no move; he crossed his arms, clearly not wanting to go anywhere.

"Grab him," Boone said without looking at any one of them. Ethan looked confused.

Boone arched an eyebrow. "Oh, so you now have a problem with violence?"

Ethan went over to Jack and grabbed his arm, Jack fought against, it would soon turn into a fight and Brian was watching with rising horror.

Then he noticed Boone was trying to tell him something, nodding his head at them, sighing, rolling his eyes. Did he – he wanted –

Jack was looking at a lamp in the corner, like he was going to throw it at Ethan. But he didn't have the chance because Brian pushed him, making him lose his balance as Ethan drew out a knife, he didn't stab Jack with it, just held it there for him to know he was armed. Ethan grabbed one of his arms in a hard grip, and Brian took the other one.

When they led him down the hallway, Jack shrugged off Brian's weak grip, and glowered at him, Brian couldn't look away. He knew the look of betrayal and disappointment all too well.

In the house Boone, Brian, Ethan and Jack had left, a man stepped out from one of the bedrooms, holding a rifle in his hands.

Sawyer looked at the closed door they'd just left through. Claret had been right. Jack didn't want to come back with him. He was different now.

But according to the screaming match he and Ethan had had, he didn't want to be an Other either.

At least he'd told Sawyer that Bonnie had escaped.

. .

The net and Fox crashed into the ground. He was tangled up in it, and it took a few minutes to get him loose. When he did they were both breathless, Kim almost lying down on the ground.

"Are you all right?" they both asked each other at the same time.

"No," they both replied immediately after.

They stared at each other, and then Fox helped Kim to sit up, noticing the wince of pain she tried to suppress, giving her back her crutch.

Kim didn't take it, they were both sitting there close to each other on the ground in a net, and standing up would be much less awkward, but she still didn't take it.

"Why did you leave?" asked Kim.

"W-why did you?" asked Fox.

"I will answer your question if you will answer mine." Kim nodded to emphasize it, once again ignoring the pain in her stomach and backside.

"I – I had to," Fox said after a moment, rubbing the back of his neck, looking down. "I h-had to do things right, for once. Stop being a coward. Be braver."

"You're not a coward," Kim told him.

"N-no, I am."

"Just because you don't tell people the truth, doesn't mean you're a coward," Kim said lightly, looking away. "It means you're a liar. There's a difference."

Fox touched her face so she would turn to look at him, as he said, "You don't tell the t-truth, because you're scared of it, i-it's the same thing, Kim."

She looked at him with wonder and confusion. "Then what were you going to do?"

"I – I'm going after them," he said, "A-andrea, Milou, them. I – I need to tell them something."

"How to get us all rescued?" Kim asked softly, even though it wasn't truly a question at all.

"H-how did you –?"

"I know, Fox. I know why you know." Kim looked down sadly. "I'm a liar too. I've lied for you. But now… you must tell me how we can get rescued, and then you have to – to leave."

Fox knew it had to be that way, but it surprised him that it was Kim who said it. "W-why?"

"They'll hurt you if you tell the truth to them – they'll – if you tell me, and if you aren't here when you do then… then you won't be hurt."

"I – I need to tell everyone myself. I must."

Kim shook her head. "No. No you don't. Don't."

Fox smiled. He leaned forward, as if to kiss her, but Kim pulled back. She took his hand though. She had problem focusing, and she held onto him tight. His face was getting blurry, she blinked several times before continuing, "How can we get rescued, Fox? Tell me."

"I – I have to find A-andrea and tell her and –"

"You'll get lost," said Kim. "You won't find them. Tell me." A tear rolled down her face. Fox opened his mouth to speak. It was then Libby and Hurley found them.

. .

Above the toilet there was a very small window. It was too small for anyone to crawl through, and it was also locked. Still, Eva, knowing Vincent was standing on the other side of the door, tried to open it as silently as she could.

In the room she would be returned to stood three guards, not including Vincent and the ones outside, if she even could manage to squeeze through that little place, which she couldn't, she wouldn't get far.

But still Eva tried to pick the lock on the window the best she could, but the latch was down on the outside and the only tools she had were her fingers, teeth and nails.

She almost fell down from the toilet, holding the scream in her throat, when she saw someone outside the window. Dressed in the Others' uniform, now, now they were going to get her.

But the person outside took away the latch, and opened the very small window, were barely her hand could get through. Eva saw blue eyes, blonde hair.

"Got the note?"

Eva just stared.

She spoke quickly, knowing they could – and would – be interrupted any second. "When you see me, come with me. I know I look like one of them but I ain't even close. My name is Bonnie. I'm a friend of your mothers. Lalah asked for your blessing before asking Rosalie to marry her. Mama bear. You can trust me. Did the note Owen gave you tell you what to do? Just blink."

Eva blinked.

The woman outside grinned. "Showtime."

"EVA!" Vincent shouted from the other side of the door. The woman disappeared. Eva jumped down from the toilet, opening the door. Vincent looked relieved at the sight of her all in one piece.

He looked up above her head, wrinkling his forehead. Eva swirled around – the window was still open a notch. He dragged her out into the hallway and back to the room again, throwing her forward, she stumbled on her feet to stand up.

"Watch her!" he barked at the guards. "You two go, we have an impostor somewhere outside." Two of the guards left. There were now two left. "She ain't gonna leave this room for any –"

"Vincent!"

Eva looked up, so did Vincent. The guards closed around her and she couldn't see who had come into the room.

"It's Owen…" She saw Vincent leave with someone and the door closed, but she could hear him scream 'What?'

The door opened again, Vincent looked in, looking sheepish. He walked over to Eva; the guards moved away and put his hands on her shoulders, holding a handkerchief in one, looking into her eyes. "Eva," he said quietly. "I'm so sorry about my outburst before. And I'm very sorry for what I am about to do now."

He looked down at the handkerchief; Eva tried to get out of his grip, he looked sad, hesitated –

The door flew open. "Vincent!" the person yelled who Eva couldn't see. "We need to leave now!"

Eva took the distraction to try to run away from Vincent, a guard grabbed her, and she couldn't escape. But Vincent resigned. "Let's take her outta here. If someone tries anything…" he gave the guards a grim look, "…you all know what to do."

They took her out of the room. Vincent kept close to her. "Eva, if this is the time for you to start talking…"

Eva said nothing, Vincent hadn't expected her to.

"Is this safe?" asked a guard behind them. "We aren't supposed to be moving her –"

"'Course not," Vincent replied. "There is a bomb ticking down outside and we need to get the hell outta here now."

. .

Flor wondered how many people knew what was happening in the house she was currently in. Was anyone allowed to stay close? Were they running around warning everybody? Or maybe it was kept a secret so panic wouldn't break out.

She hadn't been able to negotiate for them to release Eva at all. She didn't know how many were ready to die for her, but many had seemed ready to kill Flor for Rosalie – and this was her daughter.

First they were going to try to threaten everyone she knew. Sean was gone – it had to be Sawyer or Bonnie's work. This meant that Plan A and Plan B were completely over. So it was time for a different plan, a different approach.

"I want you all to leave."

She didn't have to look at the Others' faces to know they were shocked; she kept her gaze on the table, on a darker spot in the brown. Breathed out and in, "I want you all to leave, and to not come in, not to stay close to this house unless you want to be blown up. But Ben has to stay. You can keep in contact through your radio."

She dared to look up, and saw that everyone was looking at Ben for his reaction.

Ben looked at Juliet. "Well, shouldn't we grant her offer?"

"Ben –" Juliet protested, but it appeared his word was law. One after one they left, guns lowered. She knew they were going to surround the place, but not too closely.

Juliet gave her one last look before she left, it was different, not cold or indifferent but she was looking at her with desperation. The desperation she had when she wanted to save Flor's life. She passed by Flor's chair, and Flor was still as a statue.

When they were all gone, Flor turned to Ben.

Ben spoke before she did. "They are still bringing Jack here, and they will kill him if I tell them to. And if they don't hear an answer from me – they're going to kill him anyway. Do you want to have his death on your conscious?"

"It won't come to that," Flor said.

"Why?"

"Because now you are going to tell them to not lay a finger on Jack, Claire, or anybody else you might have here."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because," Flor said, smiling because she was nervous not because she was happy, "under this table I'm having a gun pointed directly at you. A gun Juliet just gave me."

. .

"We should head back," Andrea said to Milou, they'd been sitting next to each other, watching the island before them for a long time without a word spoken between them.

Lori was going to be mad.

Andrea stood up, brushing dirt off her pants, picking up the antenna and her bag.

"So you can search some more?" muttered Milou when she stood up.

Andrea turned around to look at her. "Excuse me?"

"Who are you looking for?" Milou started to walk and Andrea followed her down the hill.

She decided she could tell the truth. "This little girl, called Ellie, she is gone. And I'm hoping, that maybe, she just took a walk and when I walk around that tree I will see her."

They continued to walk on in silence. Andrea glanced at Milou, "I just told you something that was kind of personal."

"I know," Milou replied, after a moment she gave Andrea a smile, as if to suddenly seem nicer.

"You aren't going to tell me something personal of your own? Come on." Andrea smiled back, two could play this game. "Or not, " she said at the look on Milou's face. "So, what is your position at this rescue mission?"

"The protector," Milou said. "I was in charge to protect the science team… then some things happened."

"The science team? Miles, Fred –"

"What Miles does is not science in any sense of the word. There are more to the team, but unfortunately they weren't able to come here, or maybe it was fortunate."

"Who are they?"

"A woman named Lewis, a scientist called Faraday…" She frowned when she saw the thoughtful look on Andrea's face. "What does it matter to you?"

"Faraday… nothing, it means nothing. I was just wondering." Andrea was lying, the name felt familiar, but she couldn't place it right now. "So, Penelope Widmore, is she on the freighter?"

"I've told you: no."

"Right."

. .

They didn't leave the house immediately; they got stuck in the living room, as Vincent angrily argued with Shreyans over his walkie-talkie. "Listen," he spat, "I'm not takin' any risks. If it turns out to be a real countdown – I don't care if it's a bluff – her life is more important – no reinforcements available? – No matter. We're leaving."

Vincent ignored Shreyans whole technical babble and "I'll be right there", and made a signal for a guard to walk before him, him and Eva in the middle.

"Sir," the young new recruit Sarah said, "is there –"

"No talking," Vincent cut her off, beginning to walk. Eva stayed put, refusing to move. Still, she made little resistance when Vincent took her arm, not hard, but enough to make her keep a pace up with him.

The door flew open. They stopped abruptly in their tracks. In stumbled a woman who looked like she was going to collapse. Vincent ran forward in just the last second and caught her in her arms. Eva stared at the dried blood on her face, looking like she had been crying red from her almond-shaped eyes.

"Mary Jane…" Vincent said, seeing it was her. A guard helped him make her stand up. Mary Jane was mumbling. Vincent could barely hear what she was saying.

"What happened?" Vincent asked the young woman, holding her face in his hands so she would look at him.

"The survivors," she finally spat out, taking short hoarse breaths, sounding like she had very hard to form words. "T-they're coming."

"They're already here…" Vincent said and Mary Jane closed her eyes, leaning into him, but continued to speak.

"They k-killed me… the fence… they left me… Vince." She opened her eyes again, and even Vincent was stunned by the fire in her eyes. "They know about… about the tunnels. They have C-4."

Vincent swallowed. He turned around. "We need to leave. Now!" He ignored the attempts to contact him through his walkie-talkie. One guard picked Mary Jane up who looked like she was about to faint, and Vincent once again dragged Eva with him.

They all stumbled out of the house in a mess. The guards were disordered, not knowing whether to stay and keep guard, look for the bomb or protect Vincent and Eva. Vincent didn't stay to make sure they knew what they had to do. He walked in the quickest pace he could without actually running away from the house.

"Ya see now?" he said to Eva, through all of the noise from the community. People were running around, shouting orders, closing and locking doors. "Ya see now how dangerous they all are?" He saw Eva's frightened face. "We confiscated that woman's' explosives, there's no way she could get 'em back –"

Vincent cried out and his grip around Eva loosened. From the jungle smoke and fire flared up. He stared at where the explosives had gone off – not at the house, but far away from it. He couldn't believe it. He stood there in shock.

"We need to put the fire out before it spreads!" someone screamed and he came back to life. He whirled around, and saw Eva running back to the house that everyone had evacuated from to a safe distance. There was no one around to catch her.

People were screaming, running, blocking his path as Vincent desperately tried to catch up to the girl. He saw another figure at the edge of the forest – Bonnie – and they disappeared into the jungle together..

. .

Juliet saw the smoke in the air, knowing what had happened. She looked at Jack, who was straining against the guards who kept him in place. Their eyes met.

Eva had escaped

. .

He saw light at the end of the tunnel, and it wasn't hell fire.

Jim stepped out on a beautiful sanctuary, because that was all it was. There was a small stream, green leaves and a huge tree by the waterfall. There were red and pink Anthuriums decorating the ground, although it grew wildly. You could still see spots of the dark earth, but it just made everything more beautiful in contrast.

He then noticed that the whole place was located in a steep ravine, which he was in the bottom of, tall walls surrounding the sanctuary in a circle. He looked at the tunnel he'd just come out of, there were many more of it, similar, all around. It was a safe place inside a maze.

There would be hard to find the one Garrett had continued on in, and to find a tunnel that led out to the open. He doubted even Garrett knew all the places in this –

The forbidden area.

Jim braced himself for something, anything to happen, whether it be flesh eating monsters or a replay of when Elizabeth Grace Chetwood kicked him on his chin with her foot.

But there was nothing, jus the tinkling from the water, the sound of a breeze through the leaves, there were no nightmares. It was really a sanctuary, an escape from it all. Or maybe – the forbidden are wasn't supposed to be forbidden, maybe Garrett had lied. But it was probably nothing like that.

He looked down at his bloody hands, and went quickly over to the stream to wash it off. The blood was in his arms, and his face, everywhere, and soon he was dripping from the water. He still smelled like blood, but he was cleaner.

He looked up at the gray sky, his mother would have told him to pray now. Jim wasn't a believer.

Sometimes he wished he was.

He searched the entrance of every cave, very carefully, to see any signs of which one Garrett had gone in through. Garrett was a tracker – the best there was, so of course he also knew how to cover up his own tracks. But Garrett also had a daughter that also happened to be Jim's best friend, so when Jim saw the too-smooth ground he chose that cave, hoping that Garrett was there, (while knowing deep down that he wasn't, sad bitter truth) he went into that one.

. . . .

Jim had been on a weeklong expedition to the other side of the island. It was painful to watch Botanists examine the plants and wildlife on the island, while he himself had to 'keep watch' which meant babysit.

But it meant getting a few days off to be lazy. It wasn't what Ben had said or anybody else, but it was what he did.

He was lying on Maddy's bed. Maddy herself was standing in front of her bookcase, biting her lip, trying to figure out which book she should read and which book she should pretend to hate to make her parents angry. It was all a very weird and tiring process.

"Who is this leader they speak of?" Jim asked her.

"I do not understand," Maddy said, picking out a book. "We have one leader."

"Yeah, I know. But this one everybody talks about like they're the second coming."

"We are not supposed to talk about it."

"Yet everybody does! And I just nod along, 'cause I'm polite. But do you really want to keep me in the dark. What if I drown or get shot without ever knowing the entire story. Pleeaase."

"Fine." She went over to him. "Step away from my bed."

Jim sat up, Maddy seemed to think that was enough. "There have been rumors."

"Garrett and Liz don't believe in rumors," Jim cut in, because he was Jim, and he always had a comment.

"Yes." Maddy looked a bit upset, so Jim decided to make his puppy-eyes look in case she decided to stop telling him the story and go and tell her mother that Jim was in her room. They were both adults, and it would seem weird for anyone else, and it was weird, but it was just how things were.

Maddy sighed and continued, "They are not actually rumors, and I know this. But not many do. There is someone coming to this island, and this person is very important to people like Ben, and my parents." She didn't notice that she called them her parents, and Jim didn't point it out to her. Because that was the worst story ever, it was everything he'd already heard before.

"Do you think she'll be hot?" he asked her.

"How can you be certain it is a she?" said Maddy.

"So, is he hot?" Jim asked.

. . . .

When they returned to the camp, Margo was crying, Zidler knew it was probably more from hormones than from missing he and Wendy. But he hugged her and wiped the tears away. He had a grin on his face though, and of course Margo then wanted to know how he dared to look so pleased when she was in such misery.

"Wendy's gonna make an announcement!" He took her hand and led her over to the small group that had assembled around Wendy.

Wendy kept tucking back her hair behind her ears, nervously fingering on the little curls. She met Zidler's eyes, and he nodded, to say he was there and had her back. She seemed to become a little calmer at that, and cleared her throat loudly.

Not many had realized she'd gone, so Wendy skipped that whole part, getting right into telling them about when she escaped from the Others.

Many were surprised – the fact that she talked about it at all, the fact that she even talked – it was shocking. And now she had something important to say.

"We came out to this valley, of sorts, and it was dark but I could see this tall tower. It was a radio tower, and we passed it closely, and I could hear a transmission – the French transmission. He told me to leave it be. And we did, because we had to get back and then…" Wendy stopped herself, and swallowed.

"Wait…" Hurley frowned. "The kind of radio tower thingy Andrea and the rest went to put up all those weird antennas for? That kind?"

Wendy nodded.

"A radio tower? Here, on the island?" Sun said, looking at her husband on her side.

"Are… you… sure?" Jin asked Wendy.

"Of course she's not sure!" Dom shouted angrily. "She's crazy!"

"Dom!" Kaylee yelled, glaring at him.

"She doesn't even know she's crazy!" Dom exclaimed. "It was dark. You were chased around by some kind of monster. I mean, how do you know this? What do you expect us to do with all of this?"

"I – I –" Wendy looked more upset than mad at him, "we need to go there and turn it off! Fred!"

Fred jumped and looked around like he expected there to be another Fred she was talking to.

"It's what's blocking the signal right? Isn't it?"

"Uh… um, possibly," Fred admitted.

"So, what, we're just gonna trek into the jungle again?" Dom asked, looking at the survivors. "Doesn't anybody remember what happens there?"

Kate nodded at the last sentence her brother said.

"Shut up, Dom! Stop being such a coward! Wendy yelled, she started to look a little wild… crazy, eyes big, nostrils flared. "Fred, your thing, the tria – whatever, didn't work. So – so, it's the best lead we got, right?" Wendy looked at Zidler. "Right?"

Zidler had thought everybody would be overjoyed, but hearing what the others had to say… But when he saw Wendy's gaze, he knew he would have to take a stand. "Wendy's right!" he said, Margo nodded in agreement, her hand still in his. "We can't just ignore this!"

"We can't get eaten – oh, wait," Dom said, looking horrified at himself, "we can!"

"Then you don't have to come!" Dom became silent at the loud scream Wendy made. She turned to the survivors, looking pleading. "Who does?"

Margo and Zidler raised their hands, Fred, looking unsure if he should raise his hand or say yes waved with his finger a little.

Wendy looked like someone had slapped her in the face, she turned around from all of them, and Zidler saw it before anybody else did – she was going to run away. Again.

But she stopped, they all did, as Libby and Fox were helping Kim out of the jungle, her white shirt was dark red – blood. And her face pale.

People rushed over to help, Margo too. Zidler turned to see where Wendy was – and of course, she was gone.

Then he saw she'd gone over to help Kim too.

. .

"Juliet?"

Flor shrugged at Ben's query. She didn't know Juliet's reasons, but she had her theories. Juliet wasn't like the others; she looked at Flor in a different way. She'd tried so hard to keep her alive, and Flor knew she owed that woman so much for it.

"Why would you shoot me when you could just as well blow us all up?" he asked, his back straight, staring at her, like he knew what she was thinking, but wanted her to say it out loud.

"Tell them not to hurt anyone," Flor said, nodding at the radio.

Ben didn't lift a finger.

"I'll kill you if you don't!" she cried out.

"No, you won't," Ben replied quickly. "You won't kill me. You're a killer, but not a murderer."

"Those are the same things – tell them. Tell them now!"

"Ben," it was a voice from the radio – it wasn't Juliet's, "we got Shephard here. What shall we do?"

"Tell them not to hurt him!"

Ben leaned forward. "Are you sure you don't want him to be hurt?"

"W-what…" She stared at the radio. "Just… tell them. Okay. T-tell them."

Ben picked the radio up slowly, putting it to his mouth. "Put Shephard on; make him tell her why he won't escape."

Flor's breath hitched, as Jack's voice came from the other end.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Just tell them what I told you," Ben said calmly.

"I… they told me they would let me get off this island."

Ben looked at Flor. "See? Now, Jack, tell why we keep Eva here."

"They keep her here because otherwise she would get hurt – dead, like Rosalie.

"What about Boone and Brian?"

"Boone and Brian, from what I've seen are with them, us, because that's the right thing to do. It's the best for everyone."

"Owen?"

"Owen… they want to help her. They want her to overcome her past."

"Tell about all the people you've come to know."

"There's this guy, Jim. He make all these jokes all the time, he tried to help everybody, even me, once, on the boat. He almost died – shot by Kim. I saved him… I'm glad I did. There's this man called Vincent, he takes care of all the children, tries to help them if they got trouble. He cares about them… And this woman… Felicity Hale, she just wants to save people. And then there's Jul –"

The radio was shot into pieces by the gun in Flor's hand. They both stared at the broken pieces, somebody had to have realized what'd happened –

Flor knew it was over. Too soon. She wasn't ready. She wasn't. She couldn't just give in now. Not when there was so much left to do. But she buried her panic and turned the gun to Ben, who grabbed her wrist, and in the surprising pain at his grip she dropped the weapon.

Over.

"Ben?" they heard someone scream from outside. Ben let go of her hand, rolled over the floor to the window. He made some kind of signal; Flor didn't know what it was. She didn't care. Her hand was free and she reached for the gun, only to see that Ben already had it. Shakily, and slowly, Ben stood up on his feet.

Flor breathed out, tears welled up in her eyes. But she blinked them away. She waited for the final blow.

It never came.

"They won't barge in," Ben said, looking down at her. Flor was looking at the gun, everything was blurry. Not again. "They won't come in because I told them not to. Florence – you make it so hard to keep you alive." He was standing up, the wheelchair left behind.

Suddenly Flor saw that he was holding his hand out, to hers, for her to take it.

She didn't.

So Ben continued, "There's a back door, behind there's jungle. If I distract my people by coming out, you can make it. The code to the fence is now 8-9-6-5. Leave everything and go."

"Whatever I did," Flor said, whimpering, "to you. To make you want to save me. I regret it."

"8-9-6-5," Ben reminded her.

Flor stood up without his help. "How do I know you don't just want me to get shot in the head?"

"Trust me," he said honestly.

Flor looked down, at his hand.

She took it.

She then smashed her other fist in his jaw and kicked him on the leg so he fell. "I don't trust you!" she screamed and picked up the gun from the floor.

. .

"It's not that bad," Kim assured Libby. "It's just the stitches, right?"

"R-right," Libby said and glanced anxiously at Sun. "We'll just see when Andrea comes back. Don't overwork yourself. Don't go off into the jungle again, understand?"

"It's just the stitches," Kim mumbled to herself. She was in Hurley and Libby's shelter, and she was feeling a bit embarrassed at how everybody had immediately rushed to her side.

"I'm gonna see if I can find Fox," Hurley said and left.

Kim sighed. She wished she could go with him.

"Don't even think about it," Libby said.

. .

Jim stopped in his tracks, he held his breath – and heard someone else breathing close to him. He flattened his back against the wall, wondering if he should ask out loud if it was Garrett. But despite the small streams of light getting through the cracks, he couldn't even see the shape of a person in the tunnel around him.

He heard steps, clumsy, like the person was dragging their feet across the ground. Jim checked his knives, they were there. He carefully took one out.

He heard the steps close enough – and he knew he was supposed to see the person – but he couldn't. He wondered if he was supposed to make himself known.

Then he heard, without a mistake, the sound of the safety of a gun being released.

He didn't know what to do, he couldn't see whoever it was, he only had a few knives, and yet it sounded like it was coming from right in front of him.

He waited for the bang. There was a cool breeze – despite him being in sweat of the heat, he felt cold. The steps were gone. And he had a feeling whoever it had been, was gone too.

Jim warily stepped away from the dirty wall. When nothing happened, he continued on. But he kept a knife in his hand just in case.

It hadn't been Garrett. He was sure of that.

Who else was in the same tunnel as him?

Suddenly his foot slipped on something, he swore, regretting it immediately. Standing completely still, he listened – there was no sound other than his heart beating in his ears. He bent down to the ground and touched it. It was wet. It hadn't been there before. The smell… blood.

Whoever it was, was hurt.

. . . .

"Maddy…" Jim started, hesitating before continuing, "why are you here? Not that I mind finding pretty girls occupying my bed when I come home from work, but I prefer them with less clothes on."

Maddy threw one of his pillows at his face. She mumbled something and yawned, she had been sleeping… she was sleeping. She'd fallen asleep again.

Jim picked up the pillow she had thrown at him and threw it back at her head. She sat up immediately, seeing it was him, relaxing ever so slightly.

Jim sat down on the bed. "Maddy?"

"I had a quarrel with my da-d-Garrett and… and Liz…."

"Q-quarrel?" Jim saw the sad look in her eyes so he kept himself from laughing out loud. He cleared his throat. "A fight? Maddy, you have those all the time."

"This time was different," she said. "I do not wish to speak about it more."

She lay down on the bed again and took the pillow over her head. Jim sighed, knowing she wouldn't give in; he had to wait until morning then. He slipped into the covers at the other end of the bed, hoping he wouldn't have a nightmare this night…

. . . .

"I don't know what to do now," Milou whispered, almost so silent that Andrea didn't hear, but she did hear. Milou wasn't stripped bare, Andrea knew she still had orders left. But there was still a sense of hopelessness about her – she wasn't holding her head up with so much pride anymore.

They were close to the camp, and Andrea wasn't stopping now, she just slowed down and turned her head to look at the woman.

"You let it go," she said, and began to pick up her pace again, going through the jungle, stopping after a few steps to look over her shoulder once more. "Are you coming, then?"

Milou straightened her back, and Andrea didn't start walking again until they were side by side.

. .

Flor didn't make good decisions. She'd gotten engaged to the wrong person, married the wrong person, decided to catch a flight before calling the police, let the Others manipulate her, let a gun go off.

Somehow, even though she was carrying the weight of explosives, she'd just knocked out one of the most dangerous men alive, and there were blood-lusting people outside ready to kill her – she didn't put this one in the bad decision category. She'd tried. She'd tried at least. It was nowhere good enough. But it was better than nothing.

She took off her vest, and started to take off the explosives wrapped around her waist as quickly as she could.

She stopped when she heard screams from outside. She turned around and took two steps the window, not even thinking about what would happen if anybody saw her.

A hand grabbed her shoulder, holding her back. She tried to turn around.

"Calm down, Jane," Sawyer whispered in her ear. Flor's eyes widened and he let go of her shoulder. "We need to get to work."

Flor nodded shortly. "You can – can you – set it off?" she asked him as Sawyer placed the explosives in the corners of the house. He was halting, and when he turned around she saw a wound in his leg, it was bleeding hard and she couldn't believe he was standing up.

"Hell yeah, I can. And –" he said quickly when he saw Flor open her mouth "– we ain't got the time to talk now, all right?"

"You're hurt," Flor whispered.

"So is he." Sawyer nodded at Ben and smirked. "You ready to send all of this to hell?"

"But –" Flor began.

"No buts." He held out his hand. Flor stared at it in, frowned before looking up at him. Sawyer shook his head and took her hand.

They both turned around, loosing grip of each other's hands when they saw two people rush into the room.

"Back door," Jack said, looking around and then meeting Sawyer's eyes and clearly avoiding Flor's gaze. Juliet was with him. They were both panting, faces flushed, exhilarated like they had been in a fight.

"Doc – "Sawyer began.

"There will be time to explain later," Juliet said. "Right now you need to leave." Her eyes went to Ben lying on the ground. "Bonnie and Eva have gone, James," she said when she saw the disagreement in his look. "The back of the house is not free but if you tell them Ben is here…"

"We'll help you," Jack said.

Sawyer and Flor said nothing.

Jack took a step closer to them. "You have to trust me on this, Sawyer."

Sawyer nodded.

Two guards were keeping watch on the back door of the house.

Suddenly the back door flew open, and they saw Florence Bluth drag with her a man, as they were desperately trying to run away from the house.

"STOP!" One of the guards screamed when she saw them. But they didn't stop, instead they screamed at them.

"GET AWAY!" Florence Bluth shouted. Explosives. All going to blow up. Ben inside. She ordered the other guard to get them while she ran into the house to save their leader.

Flor fired her gun at the guard, and hit him on the arm. She gasped. She hadn't meant to hit. She saw people running towards them – no, towards the house. They couldn't be going there – she told them to get away.

And soon she could only see glimpses as they fled deeper into the jungle. She held onto Sawyer hard, afraid that he would slip away from her. Where was her gun? Had she dropped it? No, Sawyer had taken it. If he did –

The earth moved. An image of Jeremy flashed before her eyes. The ground shook underneath their feet. Dirt and dust filled every corner of their eyes. She was falling. Fred. All air was knocked out of her when she crashed into the ground. Her hand slipped away from Sawyer's. Sean. He'd slipped away from her. She couldn't speak, she couldn't hear but the ringing in her ears, for an eternity – a minute – she couldn't see anything either.

When the ringing faded she could hear screams far away, and she prayed that nobody had been hurt. That it were screams of shock, of finding Ben Linus safe and sound in the hidden underground basement. She even hoped it were screams anger that they had escaped. Just if no one had been killed…

She got up to her knees and elbows. Her arms shook so much she almost fell down again on the ground. But she bit down her teeth and turned her head to the side, looking over to where Sawyer lay. He was sprawled over the grass, next to a thin tree which branches bent down toward the ground. His eyes were closed.

"Sawyer?" Flor whispered, coughing immediately after his name. Sawyer didn't respond, but he opened his eyes, blinking rapidly. Almost looking like he wondered how he ended up there.

"Sawyer?" she repeated. "Sawyer, can you move?"

Sawyer closed his eyes again. She crawled over to his side – the background screams were now faint, and far away. They had time, little – but at least it was some.

"They did it," Flor continued, holding up her hand. It was scraped, trails of blood running down. She touched her face, she felt dizzy – but not like she had a wound there. "Bonnie got Eva. Eva's gone now, from them. We didn't do it, Sawyer. But it doesn't matter. She's okay."

But Claire wasn't. Flor had no idea what was happening to Brian right now – had they discovered he weren't really on their side after all? Or was he on their side, and had only tried to help Flor out of... out of what? Jack and Juliet had both stayed behind. And there were so many more. Flor wondered for a second how many more children the Others had taken.

"Sawyer, can you talk?" she asked, brushing his hair away from his face. She felt his pulse, it was steady. Good. He was alive. She looked over to his leg – and gasped. It was turned in a very uncomfortable angle. She swallowed. "Sawyer, can you… can you feel your leg?"

Sawyer grumbled something more that was lost to her ears.

"Sawyer, we need to go."

"I…" Sawyer lifted his head, and Flor helped him lean back against the tree.

"That kinds of looks bad." Flor waved her bloody hand at his leg. Sawyer looked like he wanted to chuckle, but it ended up as a grimace.

"I hadn't – hadn't noticed." His breaths came out in shirt wheezes. "You – Eva, you were saying…"

"What you were saying earlier," Flor replied. "We need to go now. It's just a matter of time before they find us. Their fence is going to be up at any second."

"In case you haven't noticed, Florence Night –" he coughed. He lowered his eyes. "I'm not goin' anywhere."

Flor looked down too; she still had a hand on Sawyer's shoulder. She saw that he still held the gun in his left hand. "Okay."

Sawyer coughed even more. "Glad we agree."

Flor blinked back the tears, her voice shook when she said, "Then I'll carry you."

"Very cute…" Sawyer's half-smile faded, as his eyes widened. Flor didn't even have to look over her shoulder to know someone was there. She let go of his shoulder and got up to her feet, before she turned around to face their watcher.

She met the man's green-blue eyes, but looked away – and saw that he wasn't carrying any weapons but a notebook in his hand. He almost looked like he was a part of the forest around them. And she also recognized him – he was an Other.

It would seem like it was two against one – but that wasn't the case. Not with how Flor was trembling and with how Sawyer could barely speak. It was an unfair match.

Flor looked around at the trees but there didn't seem to be anyone more with him.

"Just let us go!" she cried out. He hadn't said a word. And he didn't say anything now either. But he ripped out a piece of paper from his notebook, and held it up for her to see.

I AM HERE TO GUIDE YOU

"Guide? Help? Us?" Flor looked back at Sawyer. His eyes were closed. She wondered if his pulse was as steady as before. They needed help. He needed help to survive.

The man shook his head. He pointed at the YOU.

"Me?" Flor's legs were shaking, but she took a step forward. "I don't –" he had to already know she would never trust one of them. But was he really one of the Others? "You have to help him! He's – he's hurt! His leg is…"

He scribbled something else down.

ONLY YOU

"I don't… I don't understand…" Sawyer made a noise behind her, sounding almost like a plead. She went down to her knees again, reaching out a hand towards him. Her back was against the man.

Sawyer's arm went around her and he fired once, twice, trice, but only one bullet had reached its target. The gun was empty. And the man hadn't even screamed as his leg had been pierced.

Sawyer dropped the gun. Flor swayed on the spot. Sawyer managed to catch her before she fell.

Minutes later they were on the other side of the fence, and a long time later when they finally dared to – had to – rest, Sawyer looked at Flor and said, "It's strange isn't it?"

Everything had been strange that day.

"Even after Rosalie's death, that freighter girl's…"

Naomi. Her name had been Naomi.

"Not even I could figure out how someone like you went from such an innocent thing to a murderer."

Innocent?

"But I guess you always had it in you."

The Others had been right.

"Just look at today."

One month.

"And now we're here. Two murderers. One dying and one hunted."

Flor looked up when he said, "What will we do now?"

. .

The tunnel began to slant up; cracks in the walls and roofs streamed some light in. Jim wasn't sure how, as he still had to be underground, but he accepted it as another mystery of the island. Jim's stomach was making itself known, but he had drunk water earlier before and he'd gone more days without much food than this.

He blinked hard, looking up, slowing down pace. The light grew stronger, he blinked, couldn't quite understand it. He was standing still – no, swaying. The edges in his vision blurred together. The light… it was kind of beautiful, white, no hints of clouds… it was as if the cracks in the sky were bleeding white and the white was stunning. He couldn't look away from it. The memory, the thought that someone else was there with him, Garrett, Maddy, it all faded away from his mind until they were nothing else than an irritation to what the white was – the white that was everything. He lifted his fingers, his hand, his arm… just to touch the light. He needed the light.

He blinked.

Dark again.

He shivered, the whole moment before, it had been surreal. This was real. The cold…

How could it be cold?

Jim turned around, completely forgetting himself, his breaths were light in his ears. He couldn't feel his legs. Too cold.

He slowly bent his knees until he was sitting on the ground. He couldn't see. He could see – the tunnel's walls and the cracks in the surface but it was all shaking underneath him around him. Oh freaking Jesus Christ the cave was going to collapse on him. He breathed hard and fast but he couldn't stand up, too weak.

Everything was shaking, slipping away from him, he was falling. His heart clenched. His lungs broke. He couldn't breathe. He desperately tried to suck air into his lungs. His throat was closed. His hands were sweating – wet, blood. He couldn't breathe. He was dying. He was going to die. Cave collapsing on him. Heart attack. Dying of a heart attack. Something wet ran down his nose onto the ground that he was falling into – from – still falling.

The light disappeared and something dark was in front of his eyes.

"I'm dying," Jim wheezed out between trying to breathe. "I'm dying. Can't breathe. Am dying. Gar - Garret

. . . .

"Liz threatened to leave," Maddy said when they were having breakfast together in the bed because Jim didn't believe tables were necessary to enjoy delicious food, neither were plates. "Again. Garrett went mad in his usual way, by not showing a streak of emotion. I… what's the term…"

"Snapped? Freaked out? Went ballistic?" Jim helped her out between eating his toast.

"I told her I hated her," Maddy said, looking ashamed.

"So you did what every teenager has."

Maddy looked confused. "I am not a teenager."

"You could just as well be," Jim told her in all honesty.

"Then she said… she said she felt remorse."

"Okay, all good, you patched things up?"

Maddy shook her head. "No, she said she had regrets about… about ever taking me here."

Jim stopped eating, which, for him, was quite the success. "Oh."

"She was right, Jim. I do not belong here."

Jim took a deep breath. "That's…"

"She is leaving now, and… and… I do not believe she will return. And then I will be with an absent… moth…" She stopped herself. "And you will have an absent father."

"Maddy…"

"I don't care about this anymore. I don't care about the island. Jim, sometimes it feels like I do not care about you, Karl, Fox or anyone else either."

Maddy went back to her house, as she always did, but she was right. Liz did leave.

. . . .

"Do you really believe Wendy's idea is right?" Margo asked Fred. Kim was back in her tent., getting taken care of by Andrea. Fox looked devastated, supposedly because her wound was infected and it was his fault. Margo had walked over and sat down beside him to take moment of peace from the stress of the camp. It was dark except for the bonfires burning, and she felt exhaustion in her shoulders and back, still, she stayed up.

Fred nodded. "Yes, I do."

"Then why won't you just say so?" Margo asked. Fred didn't explain it to her. She took a moment to calm herself down, but she didn't. "Did you know this all along?"

Fred turned to her, looking into her eyes. "You still don't trust me?"

Margo sighed. "I'm going to get all serious with you know, I don't like to say this. But I have to, I guess." She sat down next to him again and took a deep breath.

"Maybe it's because we are afraid to trust you. Because trusting you gives one hope. And then shattering that bright hope to pieces will be worse than thousand knives in one's heart." She looked down at her feet that she'd now buried back in the sand again. "I can't even imagine what will happen to me if I don't get off this island. Or worse," she looked over to the jungle, thinking of everyone scattered out there in the unknown.

"What will happen if we leave someone behind."

. .

Author's Notes: I'm back. In black.

Happy Holidays!

Namaste.