Summary- A Locke-centric fic based on his thoughts and "destiny."
A/N- My first attempt at a Locke story! I don't know how good it will turn out, so reviews are definitely appreciated! A one-shot, but I have an idea for another one I may do, but I really want to introduce an OC. So… when you review, please tell me what you would think of an OC fic the character being a teenage girl (young teenager, not an older one like I assume Shannon is) who has had a rough past. Anyway, read on and enjoy. Please review!
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He opened his eyes slowly and analyzed the scene around him, as the recent events registered into his mind. He lifted his head up to look at his surroundings. Everything seemed a little hazy, but he knew there was a plane crash, that was certain. He saw some people lying down, obviously dead, while others moaned in pain, or ran around screaming in hysteria. He threw his head back on the ground. He wasn't in much pain. Then he remembered.
Locke lifted his head up more than he did the first to look around. He had the sudden urge to just… and he did. He wiggled his toe. "It worked," he thought to himself, smiling. That may have sounded ridiculous to anyone else, but for someone who had spent the past 10 years in a wheelchair, that was a huge accomplishment.
He grinned to himself as he sat upright and gazed over the sea. He knew everyone else would think him crazy, but he didn't have time to squeal and run around in horror. No, he was determining. He was determining what exactly his place would be on this island. And then he knew.
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"And what exactly is it that we're hunting, Mr. Locke?" Jack asked with little enthusiasm. His question was in response to Locke's recent suggestion of hunting.
"We know there are wild boar on this island, razorbacks, from the look of them." John Locke explained to the other survivors. He knew what his place would be. He would be the hunter; the gatherer. He could walk, and no one would stop him now.
"Wake up… You can't do any of that." He heard Randy, his boss's, voice echo in his head.
Pain, he only felt pain in his leg.
"Locke! John, are you okay?" He was suddenly yanked to the present by Kate's yelling. John stared again, at his feet. He was determined. No one could tell him what he couldn't do.
"Locke?" "I'm fine, I'm fine, Helen. Just got the wind knocked out of me, that's all." He said brushing himself off and standing up. He had a wild look in his eyes, one that would only drive him further to his destiny.
"Helen?" Kate asked, confused. But John didn't recognize his mistake. He only examined the area around him.
"Which way did the boar go?" he asked, still looking around.
"No, nuh uh. Michael's hurt. We have to get him back to camp." Locke nodded his head. "Yeah, you take him back to camp. I'm going after that boar." "John, you can't!" Kate cried exasperatingly. She knew that the boar could only be more dangerous than it had just been with Michael. They weren't going to risk getting their only hunter killed.
"Don't tell me what I can't do," John said under his breath, and he walked steadfast in any direction that might lead him to the boar.
"I'll get you a plane back to Sydney on our dime… It's the best I can do."
"No! I don't wanna go back to Sydney! Look, I've been preparing for this for years. Just put me on the bus, I can do this!
"No, you can't."
The tour guide's voice now interrupted his thoughts. He had remembered what he had said once again.
"Don't tell me what I can't do," he muttered again.
Well, maybe the tour guide was right. No one could tell him what he couldn't do, but he knew there was one thing.
There is one thing I can't do, Locke told himself. I can't give up. I won't give up.
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A/N- Well there you have it… my attempt at doing a Locke-centric fic. It's been in my head since Walkabout, and I know there aren't many on Locke, so I thought I'd give it a try. Anyway, rate and review, and I'll love you forever!