"Were you on Oceanic Flight 815?" Jack asked with forced patience. He and Michael were now in sitting positions directly across from the girl; this would be the third time he had asked this question.
The girl sat hunched over, her limp, wet hair hanging loosely about her face so reading her expression was next too impossible. Neither of the men wanted to get close enough to push her hair out of her face however, Michael had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn't above biting his face if he were to get that close. She said nothing.
This would also be the third time he asked that question and he came up empty, but regardless of the question he had come up empty since her first violent outburst. She looked like a drowned cat and she was behaving more and more like one: silent, still… barely alive.
"You must remember something," Jack begged, "Please, if there's anything you remember, please tell us."
The cat twitched and a few drops of moisture fell to the floor.
Tears? Michael thought. He watched as the tiny droplets flowed through the cracks and grooves of the rough jungle floor, and subsequently noticed the hue of the dirt was not as light as it once was.
He nudged Jack and motioned him over to a distant corner of the cave, once there he asked, "Hey, look, not like this isn't the most fun I've had in my ENTIRE life, but I have to be getting back to the beach."
Jack nodded. "Sure, go ahead," he glanced over at the girl, "I don't think we're gonna get anywhere tonight."
"Thanks man," Michael said eagerly and he turned to leave, but where the girl had been there was only a slightly puddle of moisture where she had sat. Michael and Jack looked at each other as if signaling that they were both running after her and did so. Charlie and Hurley who were apparently listening at the door for quite some time now quickly moved out of the way of the two sprinting adults and after a moment of confusion ran after them.
Meanwhile back at the beach, Sawyer was struggling to keep his concentration on the book he was reading and not on the occasional but all too frequent stares he was getting and on the constant roar of dialogue in the background, which, paranoid, he assumed was all about him.
He gave up.
Sawyer sat back in his torn out airplane seat, threw the book down beside him and pouted at the sea. He heard yells behind him and turned around, only to have his face whipped back to the ocean, as he saw his drowning refuge only seconds before she passed him.
He watched for only a moment or two before he realized that she was attempting to drown herself again.
Again? Sawyer thought, Is it again?
With Jack, Michael, Hurley, and Charlie only feet behind him Sawyer jumped up and ran into the ocean (this time fully clothed) and wrapped his arms viciously around the little drowned cat and dragged her for the second time back to the beach where almost the entire camp stood waiting. The girl kicked and scratched and struggled against Sawyer in the shallow water but she was powerless and she knew it. He was so much stronger than she was.
"Damn it girl how many times do I gotta save your life in one day?" Sawyer asked as he dragged her up to dry land half joking, half angry. Even though he still had his arms wrapped around her in a gesture of tyranny she didn't struggled anymore, and didn't hang limp but somewhere in the middle… quiet indignation. She tripped on the uneven sand halfway back to the spectators and somewhere in the process of getting back up she buried her face in Sawyer's chest and wept.