THEY WHISPER OF BETRAYAL

Chapter 1

He was having the dream again. The one that made him cry out softly, the sound only just forcing its way past his lips. The dream that made him clasp, and unclasp his hands, as if trying to hold onto something from a long time ago. In his slumber…he was back in the Republican Guard, wearing his uniform, hat jauntily tilted to the side, a grim look on his face as he stalked down the narrow strip in between the blocks of cells.

Looking this way and that, frantic, but showing no emotion, his face set as if made of marble, normally expressive eyes: hard, and flinty like jet stones. He was searching for her, as always for Nor…Nadia.

And as always, when he reached the very end of the last row, his heart began to beat rapidly in his chest. The sound whirring in his ears like a landslide... The last cell was unlocked. He didn't even have to fumble to open the latch. It came away from the heavy door with mere more than a gentle tug…

And Sayid already knew what he would find, when the door swung open on its bolt hinges. The thought of it filled him with dread, and longing both. And he felt as if his blood had begun to chill in his veins.

Slowly, he reaches out a shaking hand to the handle…he begins to tug softly, almost wishing the door would never open. But knowing it must do just that. He tugs harder, more incessantly, and harder still, until with a SLAM the heavy wood and steel hits the stone of the wall with a force that resonates in his ears, drowning out the sound of his heart…

He sinks to his knees as he hurriedly scans the barren cell…and where his beloved should have lain, in her place was a black satin bag; and an ever spreading pool of crimson blood. Sayid collapses to the unforgiving floor, laying his head on his bent knees as sobs rack his young well-muscled body.

Desolate, he looks up once more, eyes streaming, and void of emotion but for pain. He screams her name desperately, hoping, praying… that her blood would not have been spilled so wrongly, 'NADIA!'

"Hello Sayid."

Sayid awakes with a jolt, and blinking rapidly, tries to adjust his eyes to the dim light of the coming dawn. He shudders as he remembers the dream, and swears he heard a woman's voice call his name. He sighs as he recognizes the blue tarp that he has fashioned into a tent, and he remembers that he is still on the god-forsaken island.

With a groan, he begins to move into a sitting position. But suddenly, he can feel the cold evenness of harsh metal against the base of his throat…the flat of a knife. As he gasps, the blade is pushed a hair deep into his skin…blood trickles down the side of his neck.

He fights to remain calm, and in the end, his training takes over instinctively, and he masks all emotions. "Who…Who are you?" He murmurs, voice even. "And how do you know my name?" He is sure now; it was his captor's voice he had heard.

She laughs a psoriatic sound, rusty with disuse.

And the laugh sounds vaguely familiar, Sayid wonder's where he has heard it before. Then the woman begins to speak, in quiet tones, sounding almost sated, as if she weren't holding a blade to his throat, but merely chatting with him.

"I have been watching you for days, Sayid." She murmurs, and her fingernails bite into his scalp, as she buries a hand in his hair, and tightens her hold. She tilts his head back slightly, and remains behind him, so he cannot see her face.

"Why? Why have you been spying on us, on me? What have you to hide?" He asks, wincing as she puts pressure on the blade. He can feel the heat of her behind him, can hear her breathing, smooth and even, as if she had just woken up.

"Who is she?" She answers instead. And the question rings in Sayid's ears. He has heard it before on this island.

"Who is who? I don't know what you are speaking of." He says, clenching his teeth, and wondering why she doesn't just kill him and get it over with. Why toy with him like this?

"Nor...Nadia. You said her name when I touched your face, reached out to me. She must mean very much to you." His captor told him coldly. Then, voice softening, she added, "People cannot lie when asleep, and often share their most secret, and strongest desires. Is that what you desire, Sayid? This woman you dream of?"

His heart beat faster. The sound of it filling his ears, as it had done for so many nights...so many dreams. Then, suddenly he can hear footsteps outside of his tarp. He prays it is Jack, or even Sawyer. But she has heard it too, and she flexes her fingers in his hair, grips tighter, and jerks his head back.

"Sayid?" A voice whispers, "Are you awake?"

Shannon.

The tarp stirs, and she pulls back the flap, dawn light streaming in, she sees Sayid, and screams, a high, desperate sound of horror. But Sayid's captor doesn't move, doesn't speak. Just kneels there, behind him in the sand, a fist full of his jet hair in her hand, and her knife to his throat.

People come running, and as they do, her breath becomes ragged. Shannon looks around frantically, trying to decide if she should run, or come to his rescue, a stricken look on her face.

Kate is first to reach them. She doesn't hesitate for more than a second, and keeps running towards them. But she halts as the knife is pushed deeper, and Sayid groans with pain. "Sayid!" She screams.

And his captor's hand tightens even more when she sees Kate. There is a tremendous pain, like fire in Sayid's throat. She has cut him deeper with the knife. But unintentionally, Sayid realizes. Her hand is trembling...she is scared.

The knowledge of it comes like a blow to Sayid. He feels pity, and forgiveness, where he should have felt anger, and hate towards her. Jack arrives.

"Sayid," He says, confused. Not knowing if she would kill Sayid, if he came any closer.

Her breath behind him stirs his hair. She moves closer to Sayid, her body pressed against his now, and Sayid swears he can feel the rapid beat of her heart on his back. He breathes slowly and calmly, and wonders if his blood will end up spilt on the sand...Nothing but a fading reminder of his presence.

Then there is a scream, and the pressure of the knife against his throat laxes. He pushes himself up, tries to stand, but the woman's hand is still entwined in his hair, and as she is tackled to the ground, she jerks Sayid with her. Sayid catches a glimpse of bleach-blonde hair, and realizes that Shannon tackled his captor from behind.

Sayid, fearing for Shannon more than himself, twists in the woman's hold, reaching back to grab her wrist, and puts unrelenting pressure on the tendons there, forcing her to release his hair. She hisses in pain, and releases. Sayid whirls her arm behind her and up against her back, reaching his other arm in front of him around her waist, holding her to him.

She kicks, using both feet in a desperate attempt to knock him off balance, and send them sprawling. "No!" He shouts firmly, and she ceases to struggle. He keeps his hold tight, just incase, and readies himself for another attack, standing feet slightly more apart, to keep balance.

SMACK! Her head slams backwards into his, her skull connecting with his nose, and the left side of his face. He groans, and blinks as his vision clouds, and his ears ring. She begins to kick once more, and not knowing what else to do, Sayid hooks a leg around hers, and sweeps them out from under her.

She falls just as he knew she would, and he topples down as well, landing on top of her, and keeping one wrist still pinned behind her.

Jack rushes in to help now, pulling out his belt and looping it around her wrist. Sayid reaches under her, and reveals her other arm, and they finish binding her. All the while, she remains quiet, and yielding beneath them.

They roll her over onto her back, and Sayid gets his first glimpse of her face. It is oval, with higher cheek bones, and a strong mouth, her nose looks as if it might have been broken once, a long time ago, and she glares at him out of spiteful green-hazel eyes. Then he notices her hair.

It is short, perhaps only an inch or two long in the longest point, and dark ashy brown, framing her face in a short halo, and ragged in different bits, as if she had cut it with a knife instead of scissors. She notices him looking, and turns her head, looking towards the left corner. Sayid can't help it, he looks too, and gasps at what he sees.

Long ash brown tresses litter the sand of his tent. Some at least two feet long. She cut her hair in his tent. He looks back to her face, sees her smile maliciously. He looks at what she is wearing then, and recognizes his own clothes. One of his tank tops, barely hugging her petite frame, and a pair of his jeans, crudely belted at the waist, the folds of extra fabric helping to keep them snug against her.

Jack notices all of this too, and asks the question that just went off in Sayid's mind, "How long was she in here, Sayid?"

But Sayid can only shake his head. And stare at her, as she turned the full force of her hatred and malice on him with her eyes. She never uttered a word.

OOO