Author's Note: For Saraiyu, my most faithful reviewer, and curer of writer's block. I hope you like this one; let me know how it's going. Enjoy! Gitania

Memories of Hope

Chapter 11: Seeds of the Past

"…up. Come on, it's time to wake up now. Hope." Somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind, Hope could hear Boone's voice calling her. She slowly dragged herself from sleep and opened her eyes.

"Hey," he smiled, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Hey," she turned in his arms, trying to get as close to the warmth of his body as possible. "Is it late?"

"No, it's only just light, but there's someone here to see you." Boone gestured over her shoulder, and Hope sat up to look around.

The camp was already emptying – each person leaving for the day to fill their roles on the island. She turned her attention to where Boone had pointed, and saw Locke standing and talking quietly with Jack as they waited for her to rise.

Locke was standing next to a small white suitcase, and he, Jack, and the case were all covered with dirt. The men were drinking water and catching their breath, both looking very pleased with themselves.

"Hey," Hope pulled herself up and made her way towards Locke, leaving Boone to get their morning water.

"You're up," Locke observed. "We've been waiting for you."

"Oh? And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" Hope asked, giving them each a bright smile. She finally had a night of good sleep, thanks to the close proximity of Boone, and she was relieved to be feeling much better today than she had been lately.

Jack smiled at her energy and nodded towards the suitcase. "We found this."

"So I see." Hope said, not really sure what to do with the information, but enjoying herself nonetheless. She grinned widely, "Is there something good in there?"

"I suppose that depends on who you ask," Locke mused, "One man's trash is another man's treasure."

"That's very wise, Mr. Locke." Hope smiled at him. "Seriously, what's in there?"

"We didn't look through it all," Jack said, "Just enough to find out whose it is."

Jack spoke quietly, although there was no-one else left around them, and Hope's face turned serious as she realised what they were saying. "Mine?" she asked, in a small voice.

"We think it's your carry-on luggage," Jack said seriously. "We found some photos in there with you in them. We thought you might want to look through it all by yourself."

"This may be just what you need." Locke supposed. He smiled encouragingly, as Hope began to feel more and more afraid of what she might find.

"We'll leave you to it, then." Jack announced, giving Hope a small smile and walking away with Locke, leaving Hope alone with the small, dirty, white suitcase.

Hope picked up the case and brought it back to the space where she and Boone had slept. He soon came over to her, bringing a bottle of water and offering her a drink.

Boone was serious, taking his cue from the hesitant expression that Hope wore.

"It's yours," he said, phrasing it as a question, and Hope nodded. "Maybe you should open it." The suggestion was gentle, but Boone felt that he should leave her alone to search through her possessions.

"I'm going to work on the golf course with Hurley today," he said softly, putting an arm around her shoulders. "We won't be far away. I'll leave you to look through your things by yourself, okay? You can come and get me anytime you need to. You know where to go, don't you?"

"Yeah," Hope smiled at him, impressed at his ability to understand her. "I'll come and find you if I need something."

Boone hugged her tightly, kissed her briefly, and walked away to find Hurley and start work on the 6th hole.

Hope sighed deeply and sat staring at the suitcase. She was trying to prepare herself for what she might find inside, but she was quickly losing that battle, along with her self-control.

She reached slowly for the case, and opened the zipper to the smallest of three compartments. She found a toothbrush, a pair of white socks that had obviously seen better days, tampons, and three pens of different colours. Boone must have been right – all the evidence said that she was a fanatical writer.

None of these items were spurring any memories, so Hope placed them back in their compartment and closed it tight. The next compartment held a portable CD player, extremely damaged, with four spare batteries still in their packaging. A well-worn book of fairytales with some pages dog-eared to keep her place. She flipped through the book trying to recall the stories, and finally decided that she would have to read them again later.

There were more pens, and some oil pastels with more colours than Hope had ever seen on the island, but most importantly, her own notebook. She remembered Boone telling her that he had seen her writing on the plane, and this book was proof. She went straight to the back page to read what she had written during the flight.

As she turned the pages to reach the back, a small paper pouch fell from the book and into her lap. Hope picked it up, and realised that it was a packet of seeds. 'Forget-me-nots' read the side, with a picture of small blue flowers.

The notebook lay forgotten as the seeds brought tears to Hope's eyes. She tore the package open and poured some of the small seeds into her hand, falling to the floor as the tears spilled and she was overcome with grief.

Hope watched the bullet leave the barrel of the gun, and worked with all of her strength to stop it. She reached out with one hand in an effort to bring the bullet to a halt, and her fingers hit a hard surface. The glass of a window was right in front of her, and Hope realised for that first time that she was standing outside in a garden.

She turned away from the window, and took in her surroundings. There was newly dug earth in a flower bed to her left, and she moved closer for a better look. She heard voices, and she quickly looked back through the window and into the house. The woman and the bullet were both gone, and still the voices grew louder.

She turned back to the newly dug soil, to see herself and Sun, kneeling on the lawn, reaching into the flower bed to loosen the dirt, just as they had days ago on the island. Hope heard a strange and familiar laugh, and was surprised to see that it was her own.

She looked on as the pair continued their gardening, oblivious to her presence, when Sun stood up and removed her gardening gloves. 'We'll plant the forget-me-nots next,' she said with a smile, 'I'll get them', and she began walking towards the house to find the seeds, dropping the gloves by the back door.

Hope turned back to the window, and watched as Sun entered the room inside. The bullet was there, making its way toward her at alarming speed. Hope's eyes filled with tears as the bullet hit its target, and Sun fell abruptly to the floor. Hope turned around quickly, hoping that Sun would be back in the garden, but finding it empty as the gunshot sounded in her mind.

Hope sat up with a start, feeling the dried tears on her cheeks. She looked around, and gathered the seeds that had fallen from her hand to the floor. She placed them all back into their paper package, and folded the edge so that they wouldn't escape.

With all of her worldly belongings in this suitcase or on the ground in front of her, Hope wondered what else she might find when she really started to search.

Why had her mother been killed? What was Hope doing in Sydney? And, most importantly, why was she going back to LA?