Beyond.

. .

Do You Believe in Destiny?
Chapter 42, This Simple Feeling

. .

Fox was sitting by Kim's side in the tent, their hands were close together, but didn't touch.

"They already know how to get us rescued," Kim whispered. She blinked, her eyes closing for just a moment too long before she looked up at him again. Her mouth was open just a little like she had trouble breathing just right, her lips were pale. Her hand (the one close to Fox) was shivering a little. She had heard the news. "You were too late."

Fox shook his head. He looked down at her with worry, worry she didn't miss. "No, K-kim, they don't know."

She frowned, shifting. "What do you mean?"

"I – I mean that there is something else blocking the signal too."

The revelation hung between them in the air. Kim's hand stopped shaking.

"W-what?" Kim stuttered in a very similar way to Fox.

He took a shivering breath. "There's another D-dharma s-station, down…. down in the water and…"

"T-tomorrow. Tell them tomorrow," Kim said softly.

Fox nodded. "I – I will."

Kim felt worse about what Fox would have to do, than the pain in her stomach, but she didn't show it.

Their hands were still very close together, but further apart than in the beginning.

Fox sat there beside her in what had to be the most awkward silence in history of awkward silences, until he mumbled a goodbye, stood up and made some jerky motions that must be how Fox walked.

"Fox!" she called out before she could regret it. He turned around. She opened her mouth, stuttering out incoherent words until she said, "C-can you… someone needs to watch over me… just in case…" She tried not to sound too hopeful.

Fox took a step towards her. "Of co–"

"Kim!" Fox was rudely pushed aside when a blonde little hurricane known as Andrea came over to her side. Andrea put a hand on her forehead. "Kim, how are you feeling?" she asked.

"B-better."

Andrea snorted and began to roll up her shirt to take a look at the bandages. Kim lifted her head a little to see if Fox was still there.

He wasn't.

. .

It was an unspoken agreement between them.

Flor would take care of Sawyer's leg wound the best she could, with the little knowledge they both had picked up from their time on the island.

While Flor tried to clean the pieces of clothing in the small stream to put a new bandage on the wound, they would not speak of how Sawyer had said he would kill her when all of this was over.

When Flor came back to their little hiding-place by the large tree with fresh fruit, they wouldn't talk about whether or not those at the beach had enough to fill their stomachs.

When Sawyer's fever was getting up, they didn't talk about Eva. When Sawyer's fever was going down and Flor cried of relief, they didn't talk about Jack, Juliet or Sean.

In fact, very little was said between the two of them, except when their topic reached this particular topic:

To return.

"We can't go back."

"Yeah, I know."

"It's for everyone's safety. They're… they're after me."

"They're safer without ya. Yeah, I know, Cap'n Obvious."

"Bonnie… Eva… Sean…"

"Everybody."

"It could be possible… we blew their houses up. They might not have so many resources…"

"Still they infiltrated us. Got some sort of seer knowledge of the future."

"We have to stay out there, to be sure."

They never talked of how long.

Flor stayed up keeping watch and now and then she would stare at Sawyer, softly leaning closer to make sure he was still breathing.

This was how they had it now.

. .

The music playing on the stereo changed to a much louder song Owen hadn't heard before, and by "hadn't heard before" she meant "hearing it every damn time there was a radio or a stereo close by". It was one of those new pop-singers' crap.

She quickly shut it off, looking worried at the all too impending silence. But there was only the sound of the car running, the wheels against the silence. She relaxed in her seat, blinking, keeping her eyes closed a little too long. She opened them, and when she looked in the rear view window there was another car behind her. She gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles turning white, nails digging in. Her breath got caught in her throat when she saw the driver in the other car. The car was too close. She looked forward at the open road in front of her. She let go of the wheel. And threw herself at the other seat. Everything around her became a tornado and she screamed and it –

"Bad dream?"

Owen opened her eyes, panting, she was holding onto the mattress with her hands. She looked up and saw a nurse by the bed.

The nurse smiled and said, "Your manager is here to see you."

Owen's eyes widened as she looked at the door into the room. It opened, her hands clenched. She felt the panic rise inside her chest once again.

"Tina," Owen whispered to her new manager, breathing out in relief.

"Could you leave us alone for just a minute?" Tina said to the nurse with a pleasant and practiced smile. The nurse left and Tina turned her dark brown eyes back to Owen's. Tina looked as professional as ever, pantsuit and perfectly black hair falling in waves.

"Was it the car accident this time?" she asked with what could be concern, if you didn't know better.

"What do you want?" Owen snapped. She sat up in the bed.

"Aw, come on, Owen. It's the day you're finally getting out of here. Had you forgot? The hospital is releasing you. Won't that put a smile on your face?"

Owen's lips didn't even twitch.

"I suppose not," Tina muttered. "Right, the press is outside. So you're gonna get cleaned up and then you're gonna make a statement and girl, you're gonna be happy 'bout it."

She sat down in a plastic chair and crossed her legs, her high heels mocking Owen who was practically at the same level.

"Now remember the media has no freakin' idea what really happened in that car crash," Tina continued, "or why you've been off the scene for one and a half year. Well, they know why you were gone six months after that crash but nothing before that. So you're gonna tell them just what I have been telling them. That you were on your way on a comeback when that drunk driver crashed into your car and that's why you have oh, so tragically been away. You're gonna say you miss your fans and you miss the stage and that despite the rehab you will be going through because of your arms your vocal cord is still working just fine and dandy."

"So I'm gonna tell 'em a load of crap then?" Owen said.

"Yeah you are."

"We've talked about this. Tina –"

"Yes we have," Tina interrupted her sharply. "And we both came to the conclusion that there is not enough evidence, that there is no reason for you to stay in hiding and that you got a damn pretty smile once you curl your lips up."

Owen looked away, biting her lip. She watched the drop in her arm.

She heard Tina move closer to the chair. With a much gentler voice Tina said, "Owen, I know six months ain't enough. I know you need way more than that. A lifetime to recover from this. But you don't have time."

"Yeah, he made sure of that," Owen spat, still not looking at her.

"This is what you want. This is what you need – for everything to go back the way it was. Your fans still love you. Hell, they're gonna create havoc if they don't get to see you sing soon. You will be announcing a new album and your next concert is already planned in Japan, and then you'll get a nice break in Australia, Sydney, before you take L.A. by storm. And you will be telling the press that?"

Owen nodded.

"But if you can't, if you feel like you're going to have another breakdown you just nod to me, right?"

"And if I see another car trying to run me over?" Owen whispered.

Tina didn't answer that, she called back the nurse and Owen began the preparations.

The singer Owen Chauncey was back.

. . . .

"What the hell do you mean we're leaving?"

Owen's hands clenched, nails digging into her palms as she met Juliet's gaze.

"I mean you have fifteen minutes getting yourself ready before we're off."

"Why –"

"I do not think you are in any position to be asking why, Owen," Juliet snapped, turning around and walking out of the open door of Owen's house. Outside, Owen could see people already carrying their bags with them as they assembled on the outskirts of the community.

Owen took only a moment before she hurried into her bedroom. There were still shattered glass spread over the floor and it didn't look like anyone was going to take care of it now.

She grabbed a bundle of clothes and stuffed it inside a small duffel bag before going back into her kitchen. Making sure no one was peering into one of the windows watching her; she packed in a kitchen knife too.

She was almost considering making a run for it when she walked out on her porch. Then she saw that Juliet had not left after all, but was waiting for her by a tree close to her house. Owen didn't acknowledge Juliet's existence, but walked by her and followed the people walking away from their homes.

She caught sight of Vincent, looking still like he'd been in a bloody fight without having any wounds. She saw Shreyans and Felicity walking together, huddled close. She'd heard good ol' Claret had beaten him up. The rumors were flying faster than the wind amongst the Others.

She heard someone pant slightly behind her, and saw blonde hair and realized Juliet was catching up to her. Owen stopped abruptly, almost making Juliet crash into her. She regained her grace in the last second and avoided the doomed collision course.

"What's going to happen with 'em?" Owen asked her, throwing her a condescending glance.

"Who do you mean?" asked Juliet.

"Who do you think?" Owen answered just as bluntly."The prisoners. I don't suppose you can just drag them with ya wherever we're going."

"On the contrary," a new voice said, Owen turned and saw Richard walk up to the two of them, "we can."

Owen looked at him and he met her eyes with his own. She nodded curtly and turned her attention to the scene before her.

A few of the Others had already begun moving, but she could see Locke (her stomach made an odd twist at the sight of him) speaking with Ben. It looked like they were arguing.

Ben began to walk away from him, walking stick in his hand. On his neck was a large bruise from when (according to the rumors) Florence Bluth had thrown him to the floor. How he had survived the explosion of his house was beyond her – Jacob, island's magical interference (or the most popular theory: the basement.)

Locke turned around when he saw them get closer. Owen tried to avoid catching his eye – but it didn't work very well. She was, after all, very eye-catching.

Locke said nothing, but his eyes did. He looked almost frightened, desperate. Owen hoped her eyes didn't tell what she was feeling, because it was rising to panic in what she was facing. The Others didn't look at her like they had done when she had first arrived there. Now they looked at her with suspicion instead of curiosity, doubt instead of hope.

When they were far away from Locke, far away enough so he wouldn't hear her, Owen turned to Richard.

"Where is Lalah?"

"Lalah," Richard said, frowning like he hadn't heard the name before. "Oh, Lalah."

"Why do you want to know that?" Juliet asked from her other side.

"Because I want to talk to the woman of course!" Owen responded. She turned back to Richard, who was now gazing out over the green hills. What did it take to get his bloody attention? She looked back to Juliet.

"Lalah's still not well," Juliet answered with a sigh, despite her calm voice Owen could clearly see she was avoiding looking at her. She was lying. "What happened to her..."

"Yes, what exactly did happen?" What Owen meant was: She's not here anymore, is she?

Juliet turned silent for a moment. "I'm sure you already know everything. Don't you, Chauncey?"

"What?" Owen snapped a little too unkindly, but Juliet's eyes looked cold, well, colder than they usually did.

"What she means," Richard said, getting back in the conversation as surprisingly as ever, "is that many here are certain that you knew everything that occurred that day Eva fled."

"And how the hell could I know that? It wasn't like I was looking into my magic glass ball or anything..."

"Owen," Juliet sighed, "think for a second, be quiet and think."

"Oh," Owen said when she breathed out. "Right. Yeah, obviously."

Richard made a sound that sounded like a snort. Their eyes met for a moment before he looked away again.

"I suppose I should feel flattered," Owen continued.

Juliet raised her eyebrows.

"That you believe I can be at like, hundred places at once and risk my life to save some dimwitted harried people from oh, comfy beds and food! And you really must think highly of me, if you think I would actually try to help someone like Flor, Sawyer and Sean –"

"You were upset over his condition," said Richard.

"Were or pretended?" Owen snapped back, and hastened her pace until she walked side by side with Felicity and that military guy Shreyans.

. .

"I'm going to tell them, now. Uh, i-if you're up to i-it?" Fox looked at Kim a bit nervously, as if he expected her to fall apart under his hand on her shoulder at any second now.

Kim smiled, trying to blink back those darn tears that threatened to fall. She put a hand over his hand, tried not to winch at the stung in her stomach. "Of course I am," she said.

"There's things," Fox said hurriedly, "things I-I haven't told you, even –"

"It's okay," Kim assured him.

"N-no, some of those things, you will a-all hate me. I know, I j-just need you to know –"

"Fox," Kim said a little more fiercely, a little louder, "really, it's okay. Who we were before this..." She looked down. "It doesn't matter. Who we are. That... that's what is important."

Fox still looked like he wanted to tell her more, but Kim wasn't sure she really wanted to know. Maybe it was selfish of her – stupid, to want to keep this - this image of Fox. But it was also about giving him a fresh start.

"I will be there in the crowd," she said, echoing past words uttered to her, and she let go of his hand, and let him help her up to her feet, and together they walked to what would be Fox's judgment day.

. .

"Dom?" Kaylee bent down to peer into the half-made shelter where Dom was currently looking through all their belongings. At her voice he froze, turning his head to the side so he could see her without actually looking at her.

"Um, not not, Kay. M'busy," he mumbled, hoping for her to walk away.

Kaylee stayed put. "Dom, we need to talk."

"Later," Dom replied.

Kaylee crept into the shelter. "No, now."

Dom quickly fled the scene, but Kaylee was ready. He had done this several times before the last days, always escaping, and if anyone was a professional at escaping it was Kaylee Ann Evans.

She grabbed the sleeve of his shirt so he slowed down, and ran up to his side, both of them throwing up sand in their way.

"Kay, I said I was busy," Dom said, still not looking at her.

Kaylee threw her hair back, and stared angrily at his vacant eyes as they both half-running made their way over the beach. "Too busy to talk to me?"

"Yes."

"Dom –"

"Kay."

Kaylee sighed. "Dom, you have to tell me what the hell that outburst was about. With Wendy. Okay? You don't usually –"

Dom stopped so abruptly Kaylee took several steps before she stopped too. Dom was now heading back the way they came, still almost jogging. Kaylee wasn't having any of that and hurried her pace until she was beside him again.

"How's it gonna happen then?" she snapped, panting.

"What? Kay, I said I was bu –"

"Does the freighter sink?" she asked. "Do I get eaten by a polar bear? C'mon, Dom. If I know then it's easier for me to avoid it."

Dom actually chuckled, shaking his head. "No, Kay. It won't get easier."

"So something happens then?" she replied sharply.

He swallowed, lowering his gaze to the ground. "Nothing happens, okay?" For the first time he turned to look at her, and he smiled, a smile that looked more like a grimace or a drug-induced nerve reaction than a real smile.

"Fine." Now it was Kaylee who stopped in her steps. "If you don't want to talk to me about this willingly, if I'm not... Fine."

She turned around and walked in a quick pace back to the camp, shoulders crossed and deaf to the small "Kaylee" Dom said when she left.

. .

"An announcement to make?" Andrea said, sounding very tired. "Everyone's making announcements these days. Dom just made an announcement that he was going to kill himself if we dared to go to that radio tower, Wendy made an announcement about the day before and that guy Frogurt or whatever made an announcement this morning that he wanted everyone to take 'extra super special care' of the traps and I heard Hurley and Libby were going to make an announcement and... oh, hi, Kim." Andrea's whole expression changed and she smiled wildly. "Wait..." she said, looking at the both of them. "You aren't going to say you're..."

Fox and Kim stared at her in confusion. "What?" Kim said.

"Never mind," Andrea sighed. "Is it very important?"

"Very."

"Does it involve us getting off the island?"

"Y-yes."

"Does it involve flying unicorns?"

"W-what?"

"Zidler's announcement," Andrea explained and everyone understood. "Does it?"

"No."

"All right then, what's the announcement about?"

Fox was silent so Kim ever so smooth elbowed him. ""Tell her."

"Well... uh... I'm... a-a-a –"

"Fox is an infiltrator from the Others," Kim said.

Fox and Andrea stared at her. Andrea looked at Fox who was whiter in the face than she'd ever seen him before. She threw her head back and laughed.

"Good one, Kimmy," she said, shaking her head. "I needed that. Now you should go back to lying down and resting so you don't rip out your intestines again by walking."

Fox looked at Kim with pleading eyes.

"No, that does not count as telling," said Kim.

"So, Fox is an Other?" Andrea raised her eyebrows, wanting to take a part in their little game. "They sent their village idiot then?"

"Andy!" Kim shouted.

Andrea shrugged. "Sorry." She didn't look sorry at all. "I might have needed that laugh, but the fact remains that we do not have time for this, not when there's a mission to get us all off this bloody rock going on."

"We c-can't get away from here," Fox said.

"I think we can," Andrea replied.

He shook his head. "We can't, b-because there is a-another transmitter disturbing e-everything that comes in and o-out of this island. It's located in a D-dharma s-s-s-station called Through the L-looking glass."

"Is this a joke? How do you know that?" Andrea looked from Fox to Kim as for an explanation.

"Because I have been on this island for many y-years," Fox said.

. .

"Wendy." Wendy looked up and saw Margo stand above her, hair put up in the usual ponytail.

"Hi," Wendy replied, picked up the basket with the little hopefully-not-too-ruined-fruit from the jungle she'd just dropped. She glanced at Margo's stomach, couldn't help it.

Margo hurried to keep Wendy's pace. "Have Andrea talked to you about –?"

Wendy nodded. "Yeah, we're leaving as soon as possible, some are a little against the idea." She looked over to further down the beach where Dom and Kaylee were involved in a weird chasing game, none of them looked too happy though.

Margo followed her gaze, and looked a little pale as she turned her concentration back to Wendy again. "Wendy, are you feeling all right? Are you –"

"Fred," Wendy said, interrupting both Margo and Zidler and Fred's conversation. "Help me with these." She dumped the basket in his arms.

"Err, all right." Fred looked a little surprised. Wendy left the new diner table quickly before Margo could start talking to her again.

"Wendy's acting weird," Zidler said out loud to no one in particular.

Margo looked thoughtful. "It's a simple feeling, guilt. Right?"

"Right…" Zidler said, grinning, but he also looked after Wendy, who was now trying to avoid a conversation with Desmond. "The sooner we get off this place the better, right, Fred?"

Fred nodded in agreement, turning the fruits in the basket with a suspicious look on his face. "You sure this isn't poisonous?"

. .

Flor woke up to a gray sky and a dry throat. After checking that the sleeping Sawyer was just sleeping and not dead, she walked as quietly as she could away from him and down to the small stream. She water looked murky in the absence of the light, and shed just cupped her hands to drink when she noticed something lying on the opposite shore.

It was a dead rabbit. She let the water in her hands drip away when she saw the blood and the flesh down in the water coloring it red. There was no way they could drink from the stream now.

She woke Sawyer up and they came to the conclusion that one: they had one bottle of water left, two: they had to get moving and three: Sawyer was very capable of moving on his own thank you very much despite the fever that had returned.

"Do you know where we are?" Sawyer asked Flor when they took a break by a large rock, the shadow doing little to cool them from sweating out the little water they had left.

"How could I know?" Flor asked him.

Sawyer made an attempt at shrugging. "Seein' as you're the one who've been runnin' 'round these parts of the woods..."

Flor shook her head. "I don't know where we are. I... I have no clue."

"No kiddin'," Sawyer muttered.

Flor glowered at him, to her surprise she saw that Sawyer was smiling.

"What?" she asked, a bit gentler in her tone.

"Figures we're gonna blow up all the Others' home, makin' the first real move on our side just to die out here of thirst. But who knows? Maybe it'll rain, judging by the sky. Island's always been fickle 'bout that, hasn't it?"

"We're not going to –" Flor stopped herself. They weren't going to die? How the hell could she know that? The ratio on whether or not they were going to survive leaned pretty heavily onto the YOU WILL DIE part. "We might."

Sawyer nodded. "We might."

They had a silent moment of understand each other, which was broken when Sawyer clamped his hand over Flor's mouth. Flor made a shocked sound.

"Shhh," Sawyer said, putting a finger to his lips. "You hear that? That's someone walkin'. You're breathing too loudly." He put his hand away.

"And you aren't talking too loudly?" Flor said too loudly.

They both turned silent when they heard whoever it was behind that rock take another step. Flor and Sawyer stared at each other, hearing the shuffling of feet, realizing that whoever it was had climbed up on the rock.

They looked up.

"Soyaaa!" Little Ellie shouted happily, clapping her eyes and promptly falling down from the rock, luckily Flor caught her.

She shrugged at the look on Sawyer's face. Ellie in her arms laughing. "You should've seen Jeremy on sugar."

. .

Jim heard the sound of dripping water. He opened his eyes slightly and saw a red flower with heart shaped leaves – an Anthurium – just by his side. He smiled a little.

He sat upright when everything that'd happened came back to him. Diane dead, Lalah shot. Following Garrett, the light, the cave collapsing. He looked around and saw Garrett walk over to his side. His face was dirty but his hands were clean when they touched Jim's forehead.

"The fever's gone," he said to himself.

"F-fever." It felt like Jim had slept for an hour. "How... the cave..."

"That was a hallucination. The cave did not collapse."

Jim looked around, his eyes unconfused when he turned back to look at the man. "You..."

"Am quite real." Garrett sat down.

"How long was I out?" Jim touched his forehead on the same place Garrett had put his hand.

"First you slept for twelve hours…" Garrett sighed and wiped away some dirt of his pants, "then you were awake for three before you passed out again."

"W-what?" No wonder his throat was so dry. "I don't remember..."

"The less you remember of this place, the better," said Garrett grimly. He seemed very concerned with everything but Jim, which, well, wasn't unusual.

"O-okay. So amnesia equals good in this scenario?"

Garrett looked bemused at Jim's attempt of being funny. "This is no 'joke'," he said. "You have to tell me everything you remember."

"I... the light, of course..." That weird light, he missed it, for some reason he wanted to see it again. He needed it. "And then there was... uh, the cave collapsing, but that wasn't real, right? And I saw... there was this person. And there was blood. Was that you?"

"No. That was not me."

"Who was it then?" Jim asked.

Garrett walked over to the stream, and came back with a large leaf filled with some water. "Drink," he said. "You will need this for our journey."

Jim drank, and then looked back at him, eyes big. "You mean we're going back in there – into the caves?"

Garrett nodded. "We are."

. .

The Others set up camp by what looked like some ruins, located on a large valley. Owen looked up and saw Richard sit up on a hillside. It was a long way to go (for Owen), a way she wasn't ready to take just yet. Instead she looked through all the tents and all the people to find that one person. Her gaze settled on a figure disappearing behind one of the tents. She stopped in her steps and blinked. A shiver running though her as she had felt recognition

"Owen."

She turned around and saw Ben, without any regard to who he was and what he had said to her – she asked him the question she needed the answer to so much.

"Where is Claire?"

"Do you want to see her?" he asked.

Owen rolled her eyes. "No, I just wanted to know where she was so I could avoid seeing her – of course I do! I want to know where she is." Owen almost asked about Lalah too, but if her suspicions were correct, Lalah wasn't there anymore.

Ben nodded slowly. "Okay, let's make a deal. I will let you see Claire, if you do what you came here to do."

"You mean kill that man who has done nothing?" asked Owen, but even to her the words sounded flat.

"Convince Claire to take her son to us," Ben explained.

"Yeah, because that worked so well," she said sarcastically.

Ben took a step closer to her. "I have realized that too much has happened for Claire to be convinced in a way I would like to –"

Owen snorted. "You mean manipulated to."

Ben made a half-smile. "We need to be harsher on her. I see that now. What is the most powerful tool to convince someone with?"

"Guns?" Owen suggested.

He shook his head. "People."

"Guns don't kill people, people do," she muttered to herself.

. . . .

Owen looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair had now purple streaks in it, and she was finally out of that sodding hospital gown. She didn't look like she used to in her old days, but she didn't look sick and she did look like a woman making her way back. Makeup covered the dark rings under her eyes and the red spots in her skin and she was confident that she could walk with a back straight enough so people wouldn't notice her limp.

There was a knock on the bathroom door.

"What?" Owen shouted.

"Your father called!" Tina shouted through the door.

Owen opened it, and stared. "And?"

"I told him the same thing you told me to say when he did." Tina sighed. "You sure you don't want to call him up?"

"I want you to stop taking calls for me."

Tina put the cell phone in her hand. "All right, then you can do it yourself." She walked away, Owen heard her shout from the hall, "Be ready in ten minutes!"

Owen didn't smile, but her lips did twitch when she was reminded of the reason why she hired Tina.

She walked back into the bathroom. She did look gorgeous after all. Hell, she was even better. A smile began to spread on her face when the phone rang, she answered it without thinking. Whoever it was, the press or her father, she could tell them to screw themselves with a smirk on her face.

"Chauncey," she said sweetly. "Owen Chauncey."

"Owen," said a voice she knew very well. "Hey, it's been way too long –"

She shut off the phone and dropped it in the sink. She fled out the door, running barefoot out of her room.

"Tina!" she shouted, looking around. A nurse saw her and began to walk towards her; Owen turned around and picked up her pace, walking through the corridor, past the recovering patients and away from that nurse.

His words were ringing in her ears. Been way too long. Been way too long. She saw an elevator, a man was stepping inside and she followed him without thinking, just wanting to get away.

"Where are you going?" he asked. He had wrinkles in his face and a wrinkled hand that gestured towards the buttons.

"The exit," Owen breathed out.

He looked a bit confused, and Owen avoided looking at him as they went down the levels to the main floor.

"The parking's underground, right?" Owen said suddenly.

"Why, yes, but…"

Owen pressed the button to the garage.

"I am an escapee from the mental ward," Owen explained, nodding frantically.

The man chuckled, thinking it was a joke, which it was, but Owen wasn't going to let him believe that.

"I have to kill the Wicked Witch of the East and anyone who laughs at my epic quest," Owen said very seriously, feeling her heart rate go down. The panic slowly sinking, the pain in her right leg rising.

"T-that's nice," he said and practically ran out from the elevator.

Owen reached the bottom level and walked out. The asphalt almost burned against her toes. She tried not to think of the connection of this asphalt to the other one, the one under the wheels as she had been driving…

She began to walk, past all the cars, her breath getting more and more frenetic. She limped slightly as she carefully walked up to the open air and away from the road.

It was outside the back of the hospital. She could see a few reporters standing over by a park bench discussing wildly between them, maybe they were thinking of sneaking in.

Owen tried to sneak too, over the grass and past the trees.

"That's her!" she heard the redheaded woman with the film camera shout. Owen attempted to run but fell down, her leg giving up. She was wincing on the ground when they reached her.

One of them, the one with a pen and a notepad helped her up, all while they were talking rapidly with each other about the best way to get a story out of the situation.

"Give me your phone," Owen interrupted them.

The redheaded woman looked shocked. "W-what?"

"Let me put it this way: if you give me your cell I will give you an interview if you don't I will rip your head off."

The woman gulped, and quickly handed Owen her cell phone.

"Film this," the man said to the woman, meanwhile the young blond guy held out his voice recorder.

"No taping or filming until I am done with this phone call, all right?" Owen hissed, staring at the voice recorder guy. He gulped too.

Owen turned away from them, dialing the number fast. "Hello," she said when the other line picked up.

"Owen? Where the hell are you? Why the hell was the cell phone in the sink?" Tina shouted, Owen had been right; she had gone back and picked it up.

"Because I put it there," Owen said. "And I am outside the hospital. Look, he called me!"

"Who is he?" the redheaded woman asked.

Head. Ripped. Off. Owen mouthed to her. "He called me on your number. Okay, he is close. I know it. He's watching me. I had to get out. I will meet you –"

"Owen!" Tina shouted. "Now you stop, okay? Breathe in through your nose and out. And then you will get your scrawny ass right back here in this hospital room the way you got out so no reporters will see you. And then we will talk this through nice and slowly –"

"You don't believe me!" Owen shouted. "It was him! You don't understand, Tina!" Owen felt close to tears. And she was close to reporters. She had a moment of painful reality hit her when she realized what deep trouble she was in, but she pushed it away because she couldn't deal with reality at the moment. "All right. I'll come back I just have to make an interview first. But it was him, Tina. It was Sven. And now he's gonna do the job done for good."

. . . .

"I'd prefer to tell everyone..." Fox said again, but Andrea was deaf to all he was saying.

She grabbed his wrist, checking that nobody was looking their way before she leaned in, practically growling."You tell me now."

"Andy," Kim tried, also looking around. They were on the edge of the camp, by the trees. "Andy, please."

"You cannot create havoc, by admitting this to everyone..." Andrea almost looked mad. Fox winced as her grip turned even harder.

"Andy!" Contrary to Kim's desperate tone, she put a gentle hand atop of Andrea's on Fox's wrist. "He will explain everything, okay? He... he isn't with them anymore but he can tell us so much more, please just don't hurt him!"

"I want to do much more than hurt him, if this - if this is true!" Andrea let go of his wrist though, Kim's hand lingered on hers for a moment before she let go too.

Andrea stood up, looking down on the both of them. "You know what, Fox? I already suspected it. I knew something was wrong with a screw in your head from the moment I met you. Now I know what it was. And I just –" She gestured wildly with her hand in frustration. "I'm so bloody glad that you're letting them all slay you willingly." She picked out the gun she always kept on her, and Kim couldn't help but cry out. "Insurance. That you won't try to flee like the coward you are, Fox, now that I know the truth."

"Andy –"

"Shut up, Kim. I don't think –" Andrea took a deep, shaky breath. "You're no better than him. You were with me - us, at the other side of this bloody rock and you..." She shook her head.

"Up with you," she waved with the gun, "both of you."

They did as she said, and she pointed the gun at the both of them until Hurley and Libby saw them and shouted.

. .

Ellie led Sawyer (who managed a smile despite his pain) and Flor (who managed a smile despite the mention of her son) back to what she said was her new beach. Her new beach was not a beach, but a clearing that neither Flor nor Sawyer had seen before. It was just by a hill, hidden behind rocks and large trees and it looked from the outside like you couldn't possibly get closer to the mountain side without falling or tripping, but Ellie moved away a couple of branches and they saw a steep little way leading down.

She skipped before them, falling down on the dirt a couple of times, but the little girl couldn't care less.

"Daddy! Daddy!" she shouted, running into the arms of a familiar man. "Look what I found! Look! It's Soy-saw-ya!" She pointed at them.

Flor was just about to smile at the sight of Allen and Ellie, father and daughter, when she abruptly stopped, feeling the edge of a rifle in her back. She looked at Sawyer who growled and put his hands up.

"Maddy! No, be nice!" Ellie shouted. Allen put Ellie down.

"Princess," he said, "listen to me. Go into the cave now."

"No –"

"Ellie! You walked away without permission. Now go!"

Ellie looked scared but did as her father said; putting away a large branch over a small entrance which she crept into what Flor assumed was the cave.

She held her hands up, wanting so dearly to look behind her to see who was pointing the weapon at her.

"Maddy," Allen said. "Have you met Sawyer and Florence Bluth?"

"I do not believe that matters," a young woman's voice replied. Flor felt the rifle leave her back and saw Maddy walked over to Allen's side, still pointing the rifle at them.

"Allen..." Flor began.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Sawyer finished for her.

"Protecting my daughter," he replied shortly.

Sawyer looked around. "From what?"

"From you," Maddy responded.

"From the last of my knowledge both you and Flor were with the Others," Allen said. "And I know we have history but the Others have shown that they are very capable of turning friends against friends. I'm sorry, Sawyer, that Maddy has to point that weapon at you. But here's the truth - I cannot trust you not to go to the Others and tell them where we are hiding."

"We have just escaped the Others!" Flor shouted. "We have just rescued Sean, Eva –"

"And where are they?" Maddy asked. She looked a bit shocked, trying to hide it, but Flor had seen her surprise when she heard the name Eva.

"Can we trust you lot not to tell the Others where she is then?" Sawyer asked. He nodded at Maddy. "Who's the little brunette ninja here then? Another castaway, good Al?"

Allen didn't seem to know how to answer that."You I can trust, maybe, Sawyer. Because you... well. I believe you would never betray Rosalie, would you? But you, Flor." He turned to her. "Last time I checked you sold all of us out, Sawyer included. Want to explain that?"

"I'll explain everything if you promise not to kill us," Flor said in one breath.

Allen chuckled at that. "Kill you? I'm not like you, Flor. I would never kill you. More like tying you up here and then leaving to another hiding place."

"Why can't you go to the beach, then?" Sawyer asked.

"Maybe it's for the same reason you aren't with Eva and Sean and whoever else you helped flee," he replied just as fast.

Sawyer raised his eyebrows and said nothing more.

"What do you think?" Allen asked Maddy in a whisper, but Sawyer and Flor could still hear very well what he was saying.

Maddy took a deep breath. "I think I'm tired of holding up this weapon," she said and put it down.

"Just one big happy family," Sawyer muttered and sat down because his legs couldn't bear him anymore.

. .

Jim followed Garret (despite all of his protests and: "Monsters, that's what's in there!") into another tunnel. He shuddered, avoiding looking up at the roof, but still hoping the light would come back again. He thought about the light a lot.

"Garrett," he said, "what was the light?"

"Nothing you should be concerned about."

"Well, yes..." The tunnel turned darker. Garrett, luckily, had a flashlight. "But, the thing is," he continued, hurrying to keep up to Garrett and not lose that source of light. "I am, concerned, I mean. What is this place, really? I know it's the forbidden area and I can see why..."

He saw hieroglyphs on the wall, he almost slowed down, but the light didn't and he had to tear his eyes from the curios drawings.

"You named this place?"

"That I did," Garrett answered, not throwing a glance the hieroglyphs' way.

"So you've been here many times before?"

"Two times. It is nothing I recommend. Now I do recommend for you to be silent, Jim."

"O-okay. Right. Silence. I can do that. Easily, watch me –" he turned his head and caught the sight of another hieroglyph, "– is that the sign for –?"

Garrett gave him a death stare. Jim shut his mouth.

For a minute.

"Garrett, are we close to the exit?" Jim asked, keeping his distance because Garrett could punch him, he had been with Liz after all.

"We passed it a minute ago." Garrett said it in his same monotone voice.

"W-what?" Jim stopped. "What do you mean we passed – we have to go back!"

"We have to use another exit."

"Why exactly?" Garrett had stopped walking too, and Jim didn't care if his voice was a little too loud when he continued, "I don't care where we end up just if we can get outta here! Gary –"

Garrett pushed him up against the wall. Jim was so shocked he went silent, just staring. Garrett turned off the flashlight. Jim breathed as quietly as he could, because now he could hear what Garrett had been hearing.

Someone walking, a dripping sound Jim now knew came from blood. The sound of the safety of a gun released, someone breathing, someone also waiting and watching.

Whoever it was got closer, but it was pitch dark and Jim couldn't even see Garrett and he was pressed right up with him.

He wanted to know who it was. He needed to know whoever it was. It was like the light. He knew it couldn't be so good for him, but he needed it with all of his heart – kind of like his friendship with Maddy.

"Ga –" Jim began, because the breathing was gone and that meant the person was gone, right? Garrett immediately put a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. Jim made a muffled sound. Jim saw a flash of worried blue eyes – Garrett's – and stopped trying to get free. Garrett was scared.

The flashlight was turned on and a big stream of light lit them up and the person in the dark watching them. Jim barely had a moment to catch a glimpse of the person before Garrett was dragging him with him, away from there.

"Wait –" Jim protested, looking back. A gun went off and by his side dirt and gravel shot up in the air from a bullet.

"Run!" Garrett shouted, and Jim did, because Garret's voice was absolutely terrified. They didn't speak as they blindly side by side ran through the tunnel, barely seeing where they were going. Another shot rang out behind them and Garrett dropped the flashlight.

Jim slowed down.

"No, Jim!" Garrett shouted as Jim grabbed the flashlight from the ground. No sooner he stood up straight he was knocked back down.

He looked up into the eyes of his attacker, shielding his face from another blow. But there was no other blow.

Garret cried out, "No, don't, Liz –"

He felt the gun against his temple.

"No!"

Suddenly the gun was gone. He heard the person (was it Liz?) groan, and Garrett dragging him up again and they were running, this time the way opposite way.

"It was Liz –" Jim panted, but didn't say anything else because he had a hard time breathing, and everything was a blur as they darted the fastest they could – wherever it was Garret was running to.

"In here." Garrett pushed him inside a path he hadn't seen before. They couldn't run – stones were in their way. It looked like it had collapsed, but Garrett pushed him on.

Jim heard another shot ring out. He wasn't hit. And he didn't turn around to see how close they were.

"You first," Garrett said when they couldn't walk anymore but had to crawl through a tight space.

"You sure –?"

"Go!"

Jim went. He crawled the fastest he could. Dirt ran down in his face like a waterfall. He coughed hard, fighting on. Finally his hands were free, and he could almost stand up as he made his way outside to the jungle, the humid wonderful air.

He stumbled over to a tree, and collapsed against it. He wiped sweat and dirt away from the corners of his eyes.

"Gary…" he panted, turning around.

Garrett had not come out of the tunnel yet.

Jim stood by the tree, and he waited as the sun hid behind the clouds, and he waited until he couldn't stand any longer and he sat down again, hugging his legs like he was a little child.

Jim wiped at his eyes again, not sure whether it were sweat or tears he wiped away, and continued to wait.

He waited until he heard a loud growl in the distance. He stood up, looking around. That sound… the sound all of his people had warned him about.

He walked over to the entrance of the cave. "Garrett?" he shouted. "Garrett, please," he begged again.

He waited a few seconds, but there was no reply. He heard the loud clashing sound again, saw trees sway in the distance, and once again, Jim ran for his life.

. .

"What do you call this place?" Owen asked when she reached Richard. Her arms were wrapped around her body, the wind blowing in her frayed hair. "It looks old school."

Richard made a smile Owen caught, she savored the knowledge she could amuse him for a moment before she sat down next to him. Too close for him to be comfortable, but it suited Owen just fine.

"We call it the Ruins."

Owen looked at the tiny bricks and the remnants of old stone structures. "Wow, how original."

She teased another smile out of him.

"No, I mean it, the fact that you dare to call these amateur get-paid-and-leave thing the Ruins. Wow. Owen scoffed. "You guys suck, I shall name this the… Olwynanian Temple… that has become ruins! Got a nice ring to it and then people will love to visit such a place. We could make money out of this, you and me."

The smile on Richard's face was gone and he was back to his cold self. "Was there something you wanted, Owen?"

"Lots of things."

"Then I can't help you."

Owen sighed. "What the hell is Ben up to? He was arguing with Locke earlier."

"Locke…" Richard seemed to be looking for the words. "Is in a situation very similar to yours."

They were quiet for a moment until Owen said, "You mean I have a rival?"

Richard nodded.

"And we both have to make sacrifices," Owen concluded.

They both turned silent again.

Owen decided to break it, hastily she said, "Did you know I have already killed someone on this island?"

Richard slowly said, "Ethan is still alive."

"No, I mean I have killed someone before. Earlier. He was at the beach, a survivor. His name was Sayid Jarrah."

Richard tensed, glancing her way.

"I smashed a rock over his head," Owen said dryly. "He had been torturing Claret. He had been a good man, I suppose. People respected him. Then he went and tortured jumpy-Claret. Little-Claret. Always so-freaking-scared-of-shadows Claret. Does that justify it in your own, personal opinion?"

"That… that wasn't a sacrifice."

"Right…"

Richard licked his lips, he then saw someone down there. Owen followed his gaze. It was Locke.

"I have to go." Richard picked up the file next to him and left her there, sitting alone watching over all the people. She saw him go over to Locke, Richard handing him the file, whatever it contained – Locke wasn't really supposed to see it.

Owen could turn her back; she could run the fastest she could into the jungle behind her.

But she didn't. Because down there was Juliet, speaking to Jack by one of the tents, and she was going to have a talk with them.

. .

Andrea had yet to lower the gun despite pleas from the survivors. Fox and Kim were the center of attention as the survivors were circled around them.

"Why not? Andy –" Libby begged once again at the sight of the weapon.

"Fox is going to make an announcement," Andrea said again, she was only staring at him, the gun raised in the air.

"I know, and everyone is here now. So you can put the gun down, okay?" Libby said, she raised her hand, but didn't dare to touch Andrea in fear she would do something drastic.

Hurley nodded in agreement, he was holding baby Aaron in his arms. "Yeah, chill a little."

"I will not 'chill'," Andrea spat.

Margo looked at Zidler in worry. "Has she gone mad?" she whispered to him.

"Andrea has every right to point that g-gun at me," Fox said, quite loudly to be him. Kim looked shocked, and so did many of the survivors.

"Fox…" Kim said silently.

Fox nodded at the group that had assembled, wanting her to go over to them.

"No, I will stay here," she said, and Fox didn't fight her on that part.

"So what is this big message then?" Lori asked. "Spit it out."

"Yeah, Andrea's turning a dangerous shade of red over there," Zidler pointed out.

"Tell us, Fox!"

"I…" Fox started, then the words all got stuck in his throat, and he felt the familiar panic rise up, his throat closing, no, no, no, no. He couldn't panic there. Not now. Not this moment!

Fox just stood there in front of all his friends and everyone he had get to know, and he thought of that time they'd gotten Tom and Karl and Fox had been so scared that they were going to tell everyone who he was. But it was just the fear of getting found out, it was the frustration that he could help the survivors so much if only he could, but couldn't because no one could or ever would know he was – had been – with the Others.

Fox knew though that all of that – all that fear of getting found out, was because he knew he was going to be revealed some day. Ben let him alone there for now (and why Fox had no idea) but Fox and the survivors and the place he could actually belong to would never last forever.

How could he tell them?

"He's an Other!" Andrea shouted.

He couldn't.

"Yeah… no," Zidler shook his head. "Fox is not an Other. Andrea, you're confused. Right… Fox?" Zidler turned to look at Fox, who looked away, which was hard because they were all in a circle around him so he looked down at his feet instead.

It was the answer they needed to know it was true, but to believe it? To believe it he needed to tell them everything.

"M-my name is Fox Edwards. I was recruited here, after my brother… it – that doesn't matter. Ben sent me to infiltrate you t-together with Ethan back when the plane first crashed. I… I… helped, Ethan, we had to make lists of people we… And Claire… She was p-pregnant, and we wanted to help her b-because pregnant women don't survive on this i-island, they can't give birth here and Ethan was a doctor and it did help b-because Aaron is now here…"

Fox looked up when he heard a whine and saw Hurley who was slowly backing away, holding Aaron closer to him.

Fox stopped himself, he couldn't excuse it away. Claire was gone now. There was no way they would understand. Fox didn't even understand it himself.

"I'm n-not with them anymore… I'm not one of them anymore, they let me be and I – I don't know why they did but I stopped. I'm not a part of what they do anymore. And the reason I told you t-this, now is… Wendy."

Wendy didn't even look surprised. She almost looked tired as all eyes fell on her.

"Wendy knows where the radio tower is, and i-it's true, we have to stop t-that message. But there's a-another thing. There's another tra-transmitter."

Dom turned away from the crowd and took a few steps away, suddenly getting a headache.

"There's another Dharma s-station c-called the Looking G-glass. I know where it is. We have to shut off that transmitter t-too, it's b-blocking all signals off the island. You had to know, so you can leave this place."

Dom stumbled further away; Kaylee caught him out of the corner of her eye and followed him.

"I j-just… I'm sorry." The words would never be enough. Fox waited, waited for Andrea to lose it, waited for the mob to get him.

By a tree further away Dom fell down to his knees.

"We." Margo took a step forward, the first one to break the silence after what Fox had revealed.

"What?" Andrea and Fox both said.

Margo's eyes were almost shining. "So we can leave this place. You too, Fox."

"Are you kidding me? He's an Other!" Neil shouted.

Margo ignored him and went to stand on Fox's other side. "Not anymore he's not."

"He's lied to all of us," Kate said, then realizing what words had come out of her mouth, looked like she immediately regretted it.

"Yes, but… it's Fox," Sun said thoughtfully.

"Let me get this straight," Janna said coldly, "he is one of Benjamin Linus's people. The people who took and imprisoned me?"

"Yes…" Sun said quietly.

Milou, Fred and Miles were already on it and surrounded Janna, Milou speaking rapidly why Janna shouldn't use her weapon and exactly why she shouldn't blow the guy's head off because it wasn't really their place to pass judgment upon him.

"Fox," Lori walked up to where she thought he was, which was surprisingly accurate, "I, after this, will take you to the jungle where I will kick your ass until you wish you never been born, and then we're going to go back to the camp so we can get bloody rescued. And boy, do you got things you gotta explain or what? But first thing's first. Andrea, if you're still holding that gun up put it down."

Andrea already had, she wasn't joining the people close to Fox, but she wasn't going to shoot him. "We have to punish him in some way."

"Why?" Libby asked her softly.

"How can you ask that when Claire is gone, Jack, Brian, Boone, the kids, Libby! Remember the kids?"

"Fox didn't do that."

"But if he had told us sooner…" Andrea shook her head.

"He would have been torn to pieces by the wolves."

"Why do you have to be so sodding nice, Libby?" she asked, feeling tears well up in her eyes of frustration.

Libby shrugged, looking after Hurley and Aaron joining in on the "we forgive you" group.

"No, you d-don't understand…" Fox tried to say, but people weren't listening to him, he didn't deserve their forgiveness, he didn't. He couldn't accept it. "It was I – I who burned down Claire's shelter."

Suddenly everyone got silent.

Then Lori punched Fox right in the face.

"I'm going to kill him!" she shouted. Desmond grabbed her arms and dragged her away, Lori hit wildly around, of course not seeing what her target was. The survivors just stared, all in shock.

Andrea made her way through them, holding the gun tight, Fox looked into her eyes.

"Is there anymore vital information you have to tell us?"

"A l-lot."

"Anything to get us of this island right at this moment?"

"What I – I have already told you…"

"Then draw me a map and then you leave and you never come back," Andrea said.

Kaylee put a shivering hand on Dom's shoulder, and waited, the survivors were in uproar, and Dom was still, too still.

She waited.

. .

"Ben."

"Juliet."

Juliet walked into Ben's tent, closing it behind her.

"You gave Florence Bluth a gun," Ben said, monotone, like it wasn't as big of a deal as it really was.

"I did."

"Why?"

Juliet stared right back into his eyes, not wavering the slightest. "You told me Florence Bluth had to be protected at all costs. You confided that in me."

"Not at the account of my life."

"I knew she wouldn't shoot you. She's not a murderer."

They stared. Ben blinked.

"Maybe you hope now she had been," he said quietly.

"Was there anything else?" Juliet asked.

"Vincent isn't bothering you with that tape of you Madeline and Claire?" Ben asked her.

"I think he's forgotten it."

"Good. Allen's escape was unfortunate, but Shephard trusts you now, doesn't he?"

Juliet nodded. "He does. He's talking to me about escape now. He wants it to happen soon, while we're on the move and weakened."

"Ah, we're not weakened," Ben corrected her, "shaken, yes, but not weak. Make him wait. We need a few more days, then we can put the plan into work."

Juliet nodded. "Is that all?"

"No," Ben shook his head, "that's not all. Can you... prepare the prisoner, Littleton, Claire? If Owen sees her in the state she's in..."

"Right, I'll do that, Ben."

Juliet left the tent without another glance or a word. She barely made a few steps before Owen Chauncey blocked her way.

"Owen," she said.

"Juliet. We gotta talk."

. .

"All right," Owen said, a little while later when she, Juliet and Jack were in Juliet's tent. "I'll help you, but Juliet, you need to help me first."

Juliet nodded. "I will, with what?"

"Lalah. What happened to her?"

Juliet glanced Jack's way. "We don't know. Lalah went into the tunnels with Garrett and a few others, and they didn't come back. We found Diane dead down there, traces of blood. We have no idea if she was taken or if she left."

"Flor and Sawyer didn't tell you guys anything?"

Juliet shook her head. "No."

"Did you see Bonnie, then?"

Jack shook his head. "Sawyer… came to my house, talked to me. I had to play my part in front of him. But later when I and Juliet helped them flee from Ben's house when it was rigged with explosives – I think he got that we were on their side."

"And why couldn't you guys just escape then? I don't get that. Flee with Flor and Sawyer."

Juliet and Jack changed another one of their looks.

"We had to stay," Jack said.

"I had to make Ben trust me again," Juliet explained. "We saved his life by dragging him down to his basement. We had to stay."

"But now it's just…" Owen pulled a face. "Free to go?"

"Yes!" Juliet almost shouted. "We have to go soon. Jack's in danger."

"Okay." Owen nodded.

"You help us escape, and we'll help you kill Sven," Juliet said, taking a step closer to her.

Owen nodded. "Remember, I want it to be slow."

"It will be," Juliet assured her.

Jack made a disapproving face in the corner. Both Juliet and Owen ignored him.

Owen began to leave, but Juliet touched her arm.

"Claire's waiting for you. You know what you're supposed to say, right?"

"You know me, always good at remembering my lines." She winked and left.

"Are you sure of this?" Jack asked Juliet.

Juliet was still looking after Owen. "No, Jack. I'm not sure of anything that has to do with Owen Chauncey."

. .

Ellie sat in Allen's lap as Sawyer and Flor told their story. They left some things out, but not the blood and the gritty too-true parts. Judging by Ellie's lack of reaction at words like explosives and guns she had really become used to the island way of handling things.

Sawyer leaned back. "We know it was a stupid plan –"

"Understatement," Maddy said.

"But it worked, didn't it?" Sawyer ended. Flor threw him a look, his forehead was dripping with sweat, despite the fact that they were just sitting still there in the clearing.

"Can we get some more water?" Flor asked.

Allen handed her a bottle, looking at Sawyer, noticing his distress too.

Flor handed Sawyer the bottle.

"So, what 'bout you?" Sawyer asked, after taking a sip, sounding like every word he said took on his powers. "How'd ya team up with miss traitor here?"

"Maddy is not like your average Other," Allen said. "In the way that she and Juliet conspired to help me and Claire away from there, and therefore help Ellie and Aaron."

"How so?" asked Flor, remembering Juliet had also helped them in the end, and even tried to help her once when she had first got taken by the Others.

"They wanted our children. Why they just didn't go and grab them –"

Ellie whined. Allen immediately held her closer.

Maddy continued for him, "We attempted to escape, but I was shot and Claire she... she did not... we left, Allen and I. And Allen went back to the camp to get Ellie because we could not be sure the Others would leave her alone."

"So you've been living out here?" Flor looked around at the trees. "Here?"

"We have been surviving," Maddy said.

"And for how long did you plan to do that?" Flor asked.

"How long did you?" Maddy shot back.

They both stared at each other.

"You don't like me," Flor said and Sawyer rolled his eyes.

Maddy frowned when Flor then smiled.

"You don't seem to hate me like the rest of your people do."

"They're not my people," Maddy said at the exact time Ellie and Allen said: "They're not her people."

"Why's that?"

"I do not have any reason to that is why." Maddy looked up at the sky. "It will be dark soon. You are welcome to sleep here for the night."

"The night?" said Sawyer.

Maddy nodded. "Yes, of course you cannot stay any longer."

"What?" Flor and Ellie said.

"Sawyer can stay if he wants to, but you can't, Flor. That is just how it is."

Allen nodded in agreement.

Maddy went on, "They want you dead. They will have you dead. And if we are in danger because we have escaped – we are even in more peril with you here. I am sorry, but that is the way it has to be. You will leave this place and we will find a new hideout."

"Why?" Ellie whined. "No, Daddy, say she can stay… say she can..."

"Ellie," Flor took a deep breath, "it's okay. I'll leave now."

"Wait a second here –" Sawyer started.

Flor shook her head. "She's right. The Other's right," she said a little bitterly. "I have to go. And don't think about following me." She didn't look at him, but Sawyer knew she was speaking to him now. "This is your chance to survive."

She took the water bottle from him. "I assume I can borrow this?"

Maddy nodded, all the sharpness in her eyes was gone and she almost looked sad at the fact that she was leaving.

"You're going now?" Sawyer barked.

"Yes. I'll cover my tracks the best I can."

"Here," Maddy gave her another water bottle and a backpack Allen had taken from the beach camp. "There's a knife in there. Could be useful."

"Do you have any gun clips?" Flor asked.

"Not that we can spare" Maddy answered before Allen could.

"I'll..." Flor looked down."I'll..." See you? "Goodbye," she said, and walked away, despite Ellie's attempts to go and hug her, despite Sawyer's angry shouts.

She had just reached the end of the steeply path when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Allen and he was holding a gun clip in his hand and rope, and another water bottle in the other.

Flor took the things. "Thanks."

"I will never forgive you," Allen said.

"I understand."

"Something is happening," Allen said, "I have talked with Ellie, and she has seen things... a helicopter..."

"I know about the people from the freighter," Flor said.

"Do you know there is someone out here now?"

"Sawyer said that at the beach..." She bit her lip, thinking of the name, Frederic Phelps. The need to go to the beach just to see him... to make sure... but she couldn't.

"No," Allen shook his head. "Not at the beach, out here, in the jungle. We were going to move anyway. Someone has been stealing our food, a weapon. No animal, but person. We have no idea who it is but whoever it is, is not an Other. And does not want to be seen. Be careful, Flor."

"I – I will," Flor said, stunned by the new information. Allen disappeared down the path, and Flor took off into the jungle, this time, alone.

. .

"My dear Claire." Owen smiled brightly. She had been to her tent and changed before she had gone to meet Claire. Owen looked much cleaner, wearing purple shoes with just a hint of a heel, a skirt and her bright smile only shone up with the lip-gloss on her lips.

Claire herself also looked like she didn't fit in at all on the island, with her hair was now neatly combed and her new clothes, but her smile was nonexistent and her glare furious.

"Sit down," Owen said, gearing at a chair. She looked at two of the Others watching Claire. "Could you get each of us a drink? Thanks."

They walked away and Claire carefully sat down in one of the sun chairs. Owen happily leaned back in her own, putting on her sunglasses.

Owen chatted for a while, about everything and nothing and Claire was silent in the chair next to hers, wearing a confused face. Owen just happily talked on.

The two Others came back with their drinks and put them on a small table. She waved them away.

Owen looked over the friend on her side and smiled gratefully. Claire met her gaze.

"Did you ever think we would get here?" she asked sweetly.

Claire frowned deeper and she crossed her arms and bit her lip like a little child.

"Oh, don't be that way." Owen rolled her eyes. "C'mon, take a drink." She waved with her own glass in hand but Claire didn't uncross her arms. "Fine, be boring," Owen muttered.

They sat in silence, and the sun disappeared behind some clouds.

"Have you considered the suggestion?" she asked, knowing Juliet had talked to Claire before.

Claire looked away. "I have already said no."

Owen grimaced at the word she would say next. "Please," she got out, using all her best acting talents she had. "You don't know what will happen if you say no –"

"They will be safe," Claire shot back.

"Are you serious?" Owen chuckled to herself. That was real. "Safe? Girl, we are never safe. So now let me hear, what's your real answer?"

Claire looked exasperated, sitting higher up, looking at Owen with pleading eyes. "I just don't understand –"

The look Owen gave her was so sharp Claire turned silent. Owen said slowly so she would understand, "You do what we want and I won't blow his brains out."

"Why me?" Claire cried out desperately, and she sat up straight now, almost knocking over her own drink when she raised her hands. The makeup and the clothes might make Claire look like she was fine, but Owen knew the scars and horrors she had seen. Claire was breaking. Now, finally she was going to fall apart.

Owen felt sick at what she was going to say next. Claire was that, easily broken, Owen enjoyed having broken down people like her before.

But it was Claire. Claire who had begged Owen to help her. Claire who had looked down at her newborn child with such love, who had let Owen hold the baby which no one else would have let her do.

"Because," Owen put down her glass, trying to keep her voice steady and her face stern, "you are the only one who can get away with it." She looked away, not wanting Claire to see she was wavering. "Now, what's your answer, will you do it?"

Silence.

"Yes," Claire whispered.

Owen smirked, blinking hard. "Good."

Owen left Claire in the chair, the drinks, and went to find Ben. She took off her shoes and threw them over the grass, not caring who saw. She stumbled into Ben's tent.

"She agreed to do it, you can stop holding that gun to his head now," she muttered, glancing Brian's way.

Ben lowered the gun. "And you didn't even have to take here here. Good work, Owen."

"Whatever." She could hear Brian trying to speak through his gag. "I'll do it tonight, Ben. I'll kill Sven. See you."

She left the stunned Ben; she left Brian, and went to find Juliet again.

This better had to be worth it.

. .

"So Claire agreed?" Juliet asked her. They were once again in her tent. Jack was sitting on a chair in the corner, watching their conversation with a bemused expression on his face.

Owen nodded, walking back and forth inside the tent, she wasn't worried. She was just finding it a hard time to be still. "She did. She didn't want to see Brian dead I suppose. Look, Ben suggested you'd be the one to hold her hand all the way back to the beach."

"I know," Juliet said.

"Then what about Jack?" Owen said a little too loudly, waving with her hand, almost like Jack wasn't there to defend himself.

"Don't worry, Jack will still get to escape, and we still need your help. Just do your distraction." Juliet also talked about Jack like he wasn't there – he sure looked like he didn't want to be. "And everything will proceed as planned."

"There is no freaking plan!" Owen shouted again. "Juliet… you're making this up as you go, aren't you?"

Juliet sighed. "No, I'm not."

"Liar," Owen muttered, she stopped walking and turned around. "See you tonight at the killing ritual thing whatever."

"Wait, you almost forgot the fake poison!" Juliet shouted.

"Ah, the times when I didn't hear people say so and think it was normal." Owen turned around again, a small smile playing on her lips. She hadn't known Juliet would have gotten it done so soon. "How do I know it's fake?" she asked at the sight of the small little vial Juliet picked up from her satchel.

"You don't," Juliet answered.

"It's venom, Owen," Jack said from his little corner of darkness and brooding. "It's venom that will render him paralyzed. Even I will have a hard time hearing his heartbeat."

Owen raised her eyebrows. "Really?" she asked, turning back to Juliet.

Juliet nodded. "If what I picked up from Jim's ramblings is true…" Her breath hitched, reminding Owen that other people were gone than just Lalah now. "It's venom from a spider. Jim called it something… I think he called it the Medusa. It's because it with one little bite renders the person paralyzed for several hours, depending on how many bites, and how much venom. They will be perfectly awake for anything that happens to them while they act like the dead."

"That sounds amazingly horrible," Owen whispered to herself. She turned the vial upside-down. The fluid was transparent, with a hint of yellow. "Of course this could also just be some dirty water."

"It could," Juliet replied.

Owen glowered at her. "Could you stop making me try to doubt you?"

"Nothing I say will change your mind."

"True." Owen put the fake /real venom in her pocket, threw one last glance at Jack and then walked out of the tent. It was soon time to let Sven suffer the worst fate she could think of.

The Others burned their dead.

. . . .

"The press is going ballistic with this, Owen. You running off like a madman, rumors about a secret lover, it's all flying wildly around and people are believing it like it was the air they breathe."

"You mean I'm," Owen grimaced, "like, getting a slap on the wrist or what?"

"I mean," Tina said and made a frustrated sigh, "that I'm helping this situation far more than you understand, but that you're doing nothing hiding here in your hotel room."

"It's a nice room," Owen muttered, a hand trailing over the coffee table.

"You keep changing rooms," Tina pointed out.

"It's all to be safe."

"From a threat that isn't there."

Owen gave her a murderous look.

"It's true," Tina said without any regret. "You know it is. Sven is not after you anymore, hell, last I heard he was somewhere in the Canary Islands. It's you and it's your head."

"Everyone knows how messed up that is," Owen mumbled.

"It's that what's creating this mess for you, you need to get your problems sorted out starting with – and let me finish his sentence young woman…" Tina paused for effect "…therapy."

"I'm not ever, going to talk to a shrink, never."

"Not even for your career?" Tina snapped back.

"Never," Owen repeated.

"All right, then you'll have to do an interview, with the press. Where you are sane, charming and soothing. Can you do that?"

"Yes."

Tina looked like she doubted that greatly. "I'll leave you alone to practice, but you'll do this tonight no matter what. Okay? I'll come back in an hour to get you to makeup."

"No matter what," Owen mumbled looking down at her hands.

"And no more changing rooms!" Tina shouted before she shut the door.

Owen sat there on the couch for a moment, another moment, a minute, minute turning into ten, all while staring down at her hands, like she had been frozen there in time in the expensive hotel rooms with only one light coming from the bedside lamp lightning up the room in ominous shadows and monsters.

Owen saw none of those shadows or monsters. She had her own shadows and monsters in the lines in her palms. The same hands that had let go of the steering wheel, the same hands that had reached out for the person in the other seat –

She inhaled sharply, as the cell phone, lying there on the coffee table began to ring.

Tina.

She picked it up, taking a few seconds before she answered, breathless, "H-hi."

"Owen."

Owen had expected it, why else had she just been sitting there, waiting.

"Clearly not female," she said, "hello, Sven."

"Are you not going to run away now?"

"I don't think I am. Where's Tina?"

"She is looking for her cell phone, currently."

"Ah," Owen stood up, quietly making her way over to the lamp on her bed stand, "you've started to steal. I get that was just slightly away from when you started breaking into my house and, I don't know, push me down the stairs amongst other things.

"I had to do that. It didn't bring me pleasure, I don't like stealing or… breaking in."

"Or push someone down the stairs and leave her to die."

"It was never my intention of killing you."

Owen opened the drawer slowly, carefully. "So making my car crash, that – that was just an unfortunate accident?"

"I wasn't driving that car."

"No, but it was you who still made me crash. You wanted me to die." She bit her lip as she took away a little paper covering a small, black gun.

"I didn't. But it's clear you will not believe me."

She picked the gun up, holding it hard. "Why did you call me, Sven?"

"I wanted to let you know I'm sorry for your loss."

Owen stopped, froze with the phone in one hand and the gun in the other. "Don't you dare, don't you – ever, ever pretend like you're sorry. For what you did to –"

"But I am, Owen. I am truly sorry. But it's not my fault."

Owen ran with light steps over the living room, to the hall. "It was you who killed –"

"No, I never did anything. If you had just listened to me that day, that day after your first accident in the hospital, if you hadn't run away I wouldn't have been forced to follow you and make sure you did as I said."

Owen hid behind the door, looking out through the small cracks, waiting for anyone who could come in. She was ready.

Sven continued, "But now it's over, I won't follow you anymore, Owen. I will disappear out of your life. I will let you go."

"I don't want to let you go. I want to say goodbye. You're in the hotel. Why don't you come to my room?"

"That's not possible."

"No, no, no, of course it is. You can come here, have a drink, before I stab you in the stomach and watch you suffer until your last dying breath. Doesn't that sound like fun? Doesn't that seem like a punishment not even close to the one I'm enduring?"

"Owen –"

"You killed my daughter you son of a bitch! And you can run now and flee to whatever the hell you're wasting away all that money I earned for you. But while you do that, remember that one day I'm going to slowly torture you to death, and you're going to regret, you're going to regret it, wishing that car hadn't crashed into us and killed her. I'm going to make you regret it –"

The line was dead.

. . . .

"A knife would be more ceremonial," Ben said. The night had fallen. Owen had not been asleep, but pretended to do so when Ben had awakened her.

"It's time," he had said.

They left her tent. Sven was now tied tightly around some sort of column.

"In your back perhaps," Owen replied innocently.

"Is that a threat?" Ben asked as they walked towards the column, past all the Others watching them, awaiting, patient bust still excited despite their stillness.

"Don't be so paranoid," Owen muttered. "Poison will work just fine, going to sleep, he deserves that at least."

"Whatever you say."

Owen walked up to the column, feeling all eyes on her. That was a good thing – not just the attention – but so all eyes were turned away as Jack, Juliet and Claire left into the night. Jack believing he was escaping. Juliet believing Owen was helping them. Claire thinking they weren't escaping at all, and she was right. They were just going from one trap to another, and Juliet knew that, just as well as Owen did.

Owen held the syringe containing the vial… the Medusa venom Juliet had given here and walked up the steps, Ben with her.

She stared into Sven's eyes. He could at least not talk.

Then Ben took away the gag and Sven was muttering, Owen could hear the threats, she could see the crazy in his eyes, back where… back where the real world was. If this wasn't real. There Sven had always been collected, almost regretful about what he had done. Owen could remember looking into his eyes when he had come up behind her in the dark, before he had hit her stomach and shoved her down the stairs. He had said he was sorry.

He wasn't sorry now. This was his true self. The one fighting against the binds, the one spitting and shouting, anyone could see he was crazy here. Here he was real.

"Owen?" Ben asked.

Owen had been staring at Sven for a long time, Sven stopped fighting.

"She won't do it," he said, "she won't kill me." He laughed. "She's too weak. Always so weak. Aren't you? Aren't you, Olwyn?"

"Do it," Ben snapped, Owen glanced at him, and her gaze got stuck on everyone watching her. She found herself looking after someone… and saw him. Richard was standing there in the crowd, arms crossed. He didn't want to be there. She could see that. She wondered how much he would hate her if he knew what she was planning to do.

Suddenly she wished for a knife. She moved closer to him.

"This won't bring her back, Olwyn," Sven spat. "This won't bring the little bastard child of yours –"

Owen slowly, almost gently, pushed the needle into his neck. Drool ran down the corner of Sven's mouth, his eyes moved rapidly but then slowed down, he became limp, and then his fingers stopped twitching and he became limp. She'd done it. She looked into his eyes, and knew he could still see her, but she didn't even smile.

She turned back to the crowd watching her, and she bowed. There was no applause, only whispering. She still bowed again like she was getting standing ovations, before stepping down to the ground.

She saw a figure disappear behind a tent, and frowned. A shiver ran down her spine and she stopped walking. Staring after whoever it was she began to walk again, back to her tent, away from them all and from that ghost haunting her memories.

Sven was not dead yet. She would not attend to his funeral. She had doomed him. It would be the Others who killed him. It was easier to think that way. It was easier to think like that also when it came to another person she'd killed before. Self-defense. I was only protecting Claret. I didn't know I would crush his skull with my stone. I didn't know I was that strong.

. .

The dark had fallen. Flor made her way, now without having to think if Sawyer was keeping up, trying to find the next thing to make him survive just another day. There was a hollowness that came with it. What did she have to fight for now?

She set up a goal: find a safe place to spend the night. Maybe she could tie herself up in a tree with the rope so she would be safe from predators while sleeping. Yeah, because she was so good at tying the knot.

She walked back the way they had come, thinking of the large rock, anything familiar, but the dark was falling fast and she was tired and couldn't help the hole in her chest at the thought of Allen, Allen who had his daughter now, but was trapped out here on the bloody damn island.

She heard the leaves rustle, it was probably wind, but with Allen's comment of someone out there… someone other than them… made her bring out the gun. She could just as well fill it with bullets right at the moment.

She put down the bag and leaned against the tree.

She froze. She'd heard the sound… the sound of another gun. From somewhere behind her, she tried to keep her breathing steady, whoever it was hadn't fired yet.

Flor held onto her own gun hard, trying to listen the hardest she could. The bag was a few feet away from her. If she threw herself forward and snatched it and then ran for her life left… then… she was screwed. And dead.

She had to shoot first.

Flor moved fast. She fired into the trees behind her. Didn't look back and then ran for the bag. She heard someone cry out. Had she hit them? She was just about to fire again when someone leaped and threw themselves over her.

She dropped the gun and they both tumbled down on the ground, Flor underneath.

The person – the woman – tried to get a grip around her throat. But Flor had been in this situation too many times. She kicked the hardest she could in the woman's stomach and she fell back, allowed Flor to crawl away from her.

The woman charged at her again – growling. Flor avoided her blow and threw a punch straight in her jaw. She stood up and tried to get to the gun but the woman grabbed her feet and made her crash down into the ground.

Flor moaned in pain, the whole world in a whirl in front of her. Something sticky ran down her face – blood. She saw the woman struggle up to her feet, reaching for the gun. She saw her face.

"La… Lalita?" she panted, recognizing her. "Lalita! Rosalie's wife – you're… No! Don't shoot. I'm Flor. Florence Bluth a s-survivor. I was at the beach. The Others took me!"

"Lies," the woman said, picking up the gun. Her face was streaked with dirt and there was an animalistic look in her eyes. "You will now die, as one of them, one of those, those who took my family away from me…"

"Please, trust me!" Flor cried out, wincing again, she was trying to sit up but her head hurt too much. "I – I rescued her, your daughter. I rescued Eva!"

"Lies!" Lalita screamed and pointed the gun at her. "You killed her!"

"No! I just saved her! She… she escaped with Bonnie. Bonnie McQueen… Sawyer and I helped. Please don't…" Flor was sobbing now, looking into the barrel of the gun. "Please – please don't shoot."

Lalita still held the gun in the air, but she tilted her head slightly to the side. "Sawyer?"

Flor nodded rapidly. "Yes, yes, Sawyer…"

"Where is Sawyer?" she asked coolly.

"He was hurt. Really bad. So he stayed with… Allen, Allen Harwood, his little kid Ellie…"

"And the Other Madeline." The look in Lalita's eyes was mad now. "He's with them too. I've seen them, Allen Harwood is a traitor, I took things from them, couldn't kill 'em. Sawyer has gone over to the Others."

"No! No he hasn't. Oh, Lalita, he hasn't, Maddy is d-different."

"You're also one of them."

"No!" Flor screamed as Lalita prepared herself to shoot her. "I can take you to your daughter! She isn't dead. Let me take you to her."

"She isn't dead?" Lalita looked doubtful, but Flor knew, she knew the desperation for that last little glimmer of hope. The maybe.

Flor shook her head. "No, she's not. I can reunite the two of you."

Lalita looked unsure again. "I can't trust you."

"You can keep the gun then," Flor said breathlessly.

Lalita stared into her eyes for a long moment. She then let her arm fall to her side. "We have a deal."

. .

Author's Notes: I am a horrible person, for many reasons, for this delay, for laughing when people fall… but this chapter is dedicated to Girafe13 whose birthday I totally missed and thus the chapter title is a reference to the awesomeness that is her. Nice break from the usual, isn't it? Well, it will continue on for a while.

Everyone should have a flying unicorn.

Namaste.