Sawyer was not the best of men but he was defiantly not a complete bastard as most believed. He had to nurse his finger the whole night with Jack, which gave him an occasion to ponder. After Kate ran in with the news of Sayid's departure, his conscious was raised.

He felt that he was greatly to blame, if it wasn't for the reason of the man being Iraqi then he would never have done such a thing to his wife. But even if the man was Iraqi it still does not mean that…

"I know that he left out of guilt for torturing Sawyer." Kate was saying.

Although Sawyer would be the last to admit so, he felt that his tortures were well justified.

"Where is Minta then? How is she taking this?" Jack whispered.

"I don't know! She seems to be back in the trance she was in when we first saw her. Right now, she is kneeling on the sand."

"Praying!" Sawyer half chocked. "She is praying!"

The thought that Sayid was not Islamic suddenly formed in Sawyer's mind. Once more, he cursed himself for being such a stereotype. He should have realized this when he first saw Sayid with the bible. A cross had dangled from the end of the ribbon, and the words HOLY BIBLE were the English alphabets. But at the time he had merely thought Sayid was leafing through a discarded loot, since he associated Sayid with those turban wearers.

It must have belonged to Sayid, as he had been reading the book in such a deep concentration, his mouths shaping the words.

Determined to do something alongside redemption, Sawyer ran out of the cave to the beach.

Minta clutched to her cross tightly and started to pray.

"To our Father in Heaven: you have been so kind to both Sayid and I…Sayid was the only who brought me to you, showing me that I have a father who loves me…

"Father, I have been so foolish, Sayid does not deserve someone who is stupid like me! He did all this for me but all I do is bringing him more pain and sorrow. What good am I to him? All I ever do is cry.

"Please, let him forgive me somehow…no, Father, please just protect Sayid. So that he will be safe…"

Her incoherent prayers ended with a sob, his heart finally moved Sawyer approached her.

"Minta, I want to apologize." He said softly.

"Apologize to Sayid!" she lashed out, right now she wanted to attack this man, as he had been partly responsible for Sayid's departure.

"I would if I could." He said sincerely, kneeling on the sand beside her. "But as he is not here, you must accept this apology on his behalf. The thing is…Minta, I had a little sister and she died in the twin towers at September Eleventh. She was my only relative."

Her eyes softened slightly but they were still glowering.

"He was in America at that time, Sawyer! And he was probably more upset then anyone else. I remember it so well…"

Flashback

"I am so tired…" Minta moaned with a yawn. "And it is only about four."

"You go to sleep and I'll go and make you something very nice for dinner at six." Sayid promised, kissing her before he let her go.

Laughing he started to rummage the pantry for ingredients. He managed to find the remote, for some bizarre reason it was shoved inside the cereal box. Shrugging he switched the television on.

Usually Minta forbids him watching television and doing chores at the same time. Her reason was that he always focus on the television so much that he ends up "Putting the whole jar of salt into the soup, or vacuum the curtain in" while he watched the news.

The screen completely stunned him. The two twin towers were crumbling before his very eyes, the planes flew into it in slow motion. Clenching his hand tightly together, he knelt down and did the only thing he could do: to pray.

Praying for all the innocent people who died in the twin towers, praying for his foolish brothers who believed that they were doing the right thing, and last of all, for himself.

He felt ashamed to be Iraqi and he was even more ashamed of that shame.

Minta found him still kneeling in front of the television at six am the following morning. He was still praying between sobs with his hands tightly clasped together.

"Oh Sayid, it is not your fault." She repeated, putting her arms around him. "Sayid, you are not responsible."

He stopped teaching for that whole year and worked voluntarily in hospitals and hospices as a penance. Even then many of the staff and patients glared at him for being Middle-Eastern. One even spat at him under the full view of a crowd.

Sayid resumed his old job when the year was up but old grudges were hard to forget. When the anniversary for the fatal day arrived four students openly pelted him with rubbish, and he had threats placed on his desk by parents, students and staffs.

The only relief he had was from Minta and his church brethrens. Not one of them linked him with any act of terrorism, and if someone insulted him under their knowledge they would immediately defend him.

Minta had her own problems because of him, her parents sent more threatening letters about him as a terrorist and a plane hijacker.

She burnt them all.

She never realized that he was so upset because of his actions in the past, he felt guilty. Although Sayid had never tortured anyone other then the so-called rebels and traitors, he still felt as if had had played a part in all this.