Memories of Hope

Chapter 3: Dream a Little Dream

"Are you sleeping okay?" Jack asked as he shuffled around her. He was finishing Hope's check-up, and was obviously none too impressed with not finding anything out of place.

Hope thought of the past five mornings since her first fishing day with Walt, waking abruptly to the sound of the same gunshot ricocheting around in her mind. "Not really…" she debated with herself for a moment, and decided to confide in the Doctor. "I've been having these dreams."

Jack looked up from where he seemed to be observing her breathing. Concern flashed across his eyes, "What kind of dreams?"

"Well, not even dreams, really. More like dream fragments. I just hear a gunshot. It's so loud that it wakes me up, usually an hour or so before dawn, but I can never remember what happens before the shot."

"Any memories yet?" asked Jack.

Hope shook her head sadly, thinking of the dark shadows in her mind. Like pictures that weren't complete, she had only the outlines of people and places.

Jack frowned a little, and then changed his expression consciously to promising, "Give it time." he said, following the old familiar script of their check-ups, "When you're ready, I think you'll remember." He paused, thinking of a prescription for the patient. "Maybe I can dig up some sleeping pills for you. Just to help you get back on your feet. No offence, but you're not looking your best lately."

Hope laughed gently at her friend, "Gee, thanks Doc. I bet you're a whiz with the ladies!"

Jack smiled back, and continued in what the castaways had begun to refer to as his 'Doctor voice'. "Look, nothing's happening around here right now, and I don't expect Locke and Sayid to be back with more meat for a while. Maybe you should try and get some rest." he suggested.

"It's the middle of the afternoon." Hope objected.

"It would do you good." The Doctor persisted, and Hope knew she was fighting a losing battle – that concerned face would melt anyone. "And keep drinking water – I'm not too sure about all the time you and Walt are spending on your spear-fishing lately. You guys have to be careful of dehydration and sun stroke."

Hope took her verbal prescription, and moved into a lying position. "Yeah, okay."

As Jack turned to leave her alone in the caves, Hope called out to him.

"We're getting way better, you know. We'll catch something any day now – count on it."

"Can't wait." Jack said truthfully, "Boar's great for keeping us all alive, but I could really go for a change of meats."

"Me too." Hope smiled, "Don't worry, Walt and I have got it covered."

Jack left her in the cool quiet of the cave, and Hope tried in vain to find a comfortable position on the hard ground. Despite herself, she soon drifted into a fitful sleep, only to be accosted by the same familiar dream.

The bullet moved slowly and soundlessly from the gun, and Hope could see the smoke rise from the barrel. She watched as the deadly piece of metal tore through the air, crossing a backdrop of photos on a living room wall. The room fell into shadow, and Hope finally heard the menacing sound of the gunshot as a female figure fell unceremoniously to the floor.

Hope woke with a small cry, to find a large, shadowed figure standing over her. She watched as he held out a hand, and leaned down so she could see his face.

"I am sorry." Sayid apologised, and put a hand on her shoulder in comfort. "I did not mean to startle you."

"It's okay," Hope said breathlessly. "I seem to be easily startled lately." She smiled at him, and raised her eyebrows in question. "Were you looking for me, or was startling me just a bonus?"

"Jack asked me to come and find you. Locke and I have returned," he smiled in an embarrassed way and gestured to himself, "obviously. We have brought more food. Hungry?"

"Sure." Hope smiled in reassurance – Sayid had Jack's famous concerned expression. "I'm okay," she said, before he asked, "just a bad dream, I guess."

Sayid helped her up, and Hope slashed her face with water before following him out of the caves. She knew Jack would be curious to hear if she had had her dream again, and Hope wasn't yet sure if she wanted to disclose the new details. She had felt a terrible loss when the woman in her dream fell, and she wondered for a moment if Jack was right – perhaps her memories were returning. Somehow this didn't fill her with the joy she had expected. What if Walt was wrong, and she would be happy not to remember?