Author: Gitania

Email: Please review and let me know what you think. Flame me if you must, but do try to be constructive. Thanks!

Disclaimer: I invented the character of Hope and all that surrounds her, but other than that I own nothing but the disk I save this on.

Summary: Hope is a castaway with no memories of the past, until they start to come back to her through dreams of the only faces she knows – the others on the island.

Memories of Hope

Chapter 1: A Shot in the Dark

Hope woke with a start, the sound of the gunshot still ringing in her ears. She gasped and sat up, looking around to find the source of the noise. As her breathing slowed and she realised that there had been no reaction from her companions at the caves, Hope noticed a pair of dark eyes upon her.

"Hey," she whispered, moving closer to the boy. "Can't sleep?"

"Nope." Walt replied. "The ground here is too hard. What about you?"

Hope wasn't sure how to explain the gunshot, "I thought I heard a noise."

"Mr. Locke says life is full of noise, it's never really quiet. Even what we think is quiet, isn't really – there's always wind and the ocean, and stuff. Maybe it was something like that."

"Mr. Locke is a smart man." Hope replied, realising, not for the first time, the apparent depth of the older man's wisdom. "You can learn a lot from him, especially out here."

Walt looked down at the man sleeping beside him. The dad who didn't feel like a dad just yet. "I guess it depends who you ask." He said with a hint of resentment.

Hope smiled softly, and tried to explain. "Your dad cares a lot about you. He just wants you to be safe. But I can't think of anyone on this island better than Mr. Locke for teaching us all how to keep ourselves and each other safe. And sometimes you have to think for yourself, and you're probably old enough to do that now."

Walt frowned a little. "So, I shouldn't listen to my dad?"

"Hold up, I didn't say that."

"So… I shouldn't listen to Mr. Locke?" Walt was looking more and more confused, and Hope wondered if she was smart to give advice.

"Listen, Buddy. I'm not going to tell you who to listen to. You have to make your own choices. But, then you have to live with them, so try to make wise ones, okay?"

Hope smiled encouragingly at the boy, as he struggled to grow up too fast. "Okay."

Satisfied with the conversation, Hope stood and wandered further into the cave. She picked up the water bottles that stood empty in a line, and started to fill them, ready to be taken to the people still living at the beach. Even after talking to Walt about his problems, she still was not distracted from the sound of the gunshot that she had heard.

"I didn't hear a noise." Walt said, somehow aware that her thoughts were troubled. "Maybe you were dreaming or something."

"Maybe," Hope often wondered about Walt, and how lonely he must be on the island. No-one around his own age, and even his own dad seemed to overlook him. Maybe the boy had a bigger part to play, but nobody had bothered to include him.

"Hey," Hope said, causing Walt to turn and look at her. "Want to go fishing with me today? Claire and I have been sharpening sticks to use as spears, so we can try some spear-fishing. We'll have to be damn quick, and I don't know how your reflexes are, but we can see how we go. What do you think?"

"Sure." Walt agreed quickly, eager to be of some help to the group. He looked down at Michael, still sleeping beside him, "Maybe I should ask first."

"Good idea. The sun's rising anyway, the rest will be awake soon. Come help me get some water together for the beach-dwellers."