Disclaimer: I do not own Lost or any of the characters in it..

Notes: Thank you for all of the great reviews. I apologize for this being so late. Unfortunately real life has gotten in the way of my writing and I've been working a lot of hours. But I promise to keep updating as often as I possibly can!

Summary: The survivors are at the hospital, and Walt looks around at what the island has done to his friends.

"A Childs Eyes"

He sat on a stretcher, swinging his legs back and forth effortlessly. They had arrived at the hospital forever ago and Walt was so far really enjoying himself. There was a pretty nurse who had checked his heart and his eyes. She reminded him of his mom. He really missed her. He wished that he could be back in Australia with her now, instead of in this hospital. The island had been fun, but he knew that it was not something that could last forever. The island was dangerous and there were people who wanted to hurt them there. He also knew that they had hurt some of them. Walt frowned at the image of all of the dead people on the island. He knew they were safe now though, at least most of them were.

The nurse stopped her exam finally and smiled at him. He smiled back. She said something about dehydration and said she had to go get something so that she could make him better. Walt found this funny since he didn't feel sick at all. Once she was gone he was all alone. His dad was gone. The nurses had taken him to a separate room to be examined. Walt didn't mind though. He knew he would see his dad again soon. His dad, Walt knew, did not like being so far away from him. Walt had promised that he would be good for the doctors and nurses and not get into any trouble.

But Walt got bored. He jumped off of the stretcher and casually wandered around the emergency room. There were lots of rooms with lots of sick people. All of the rooms had curtains in front of them instead of doors. Walt stopped at one curtain and peeked through. Here he saw the nice man who had been on the raft with them. Jin was arguing with the nurse, who was trying to put a needle in his arm. Walt winced and looked away. He hated needles. He continued to listen and when he heard the nurse stop arguing with the patient he quickly moved away from the opening.

A moment later she broke through the curtain, shaking her head in annoyance.

The nurse walked to the counter in a huff. "Does anyone have the number of a Korean translator?"

Another nurse walked up to her and took chart. "He has a wife in Trauma A. She's not conscious though. You'll have to make due for now."

Walt just listened to their conversation for awhile, content to be somewhere more interesting then that tiny white room. As soon as their words became boring again Walt decided to see what else he could find. He wandered farther down the hallway, stopping at each curtain to look inside. When he came to a room marked Trauma A, he stopped. This room had a clear sliding door. He touched it and felt the cold glass on his palm.

He noticed a man in a lab coat inside. He was bandaging up the head of a woman, who was lying on the exam table. She was wearing only her underwear and Walt quickly looked away out of respect. He listened to what was going on inside.

"Hey Dr. Dean. How is she?" Said a woman's voice.

"She's lost a lot of blood. She's going to need surgery to get the bullet out. But I think she'll pull through." He explained.

"I've got her husband in Exam 3. He doesn't speak any English and won't let me put an IV in to hydrate him."

"Try the service number. Maybe they can send over a translator. She won't be waking up for awhile." Walt looked back and saw the doctor step away from the bed. He saw that it was Sun in the bed. Poor Sun. He hoped that she'd be ok. He was pushed aside as two men in green scrubs opened up the doors and walked in.

"Transport. We're here to take the patient to surgery." They stated loudly.

"She's all yours boys." The doctor said, and walked to the waste bin and deposited his gloves inside.

Walt backed away from the door and stumbled as he ran into something from behind.

"Coming through!" Walt found himself pushed up against the wall as two men in blue shirts and pants pushed past. They were pushing a large bed on wheels and Walt was intrigued. He stood on his toes until he could see onto the top of the bed, and found that it was Sayid lying on it. It didn't look like Sayid though. His head was wrapped in bandages and he had a lot of bruises all over. He was wearing a tube under his nose for some reason. And he had a tube going from his arm to a bag of what looked like blood on the pole next to him. His eyes were closed.

"Sayid!" Walt called out.

"Go back to your room kid." One of the men said back to him. He watched the bed go by until it turned the corner towards the elevators. He felt very sad. He knew that people were going to be hurt, but not like this. He liked Charlie, he thought he was funny. He looked to his right when he heard a voice say something that intrigued him.

"Hey, is she one of those plane crash people?" It was another man in a blue shirt and pants. He was holding a clipboard and talking to a woman in a funny Garfield shirt.

"Sure is. Who knew they'd turn up on our turf huh?" The woman replied. "She's in Exam 5."

The man walked past the nurse and out into the hallway. Walt found himself following him, wanting to know who they were talking about. The man seemed happy. He was smiling. He made a left turn near the end of the hallway, walking past a large burly man on a stretcher. Walt recognized the man immediately.

"Hey dude, can I get some service here?" Hurley shouted at the doctor, but he ignored him and kept walking. He continued into the room next to where Hurley sat. Walt smiled at Hurley as he walked by.

"Hey Hurley." He said.

"Hey little man. How's it going?" Hurley was wearing a white gown just like his own, Walt thought. He wondered if Hurley was sick too.

"OK I guess. Are you sick Hurley?" He asked. Hurley shook his head.

"Naw dude, I'm fine. But I could use a meal anytime now!" He said loudly. Walt laughed.

"See ya Hurley." He said, and started towards the room the doctor had entered.

"Bye little dude." Hurley shifted on the bed and nearly fell off of it. This made Walt smile.

Walt heard a conversation going on and stopped at the opening in the curtain. He listened.

"Hello Mrs. Littleton" He heard the doctors voice say. He chanced a peek inside to find a young blonde girl sitting on the bed. It was Claire. She was wearing one of those gowns too. She was holding the baby in her arms.

"Oh it's miss actually." She looked down at the baby. "I'm a single parent, not by choice of course. But who am I to challenge what fate has given me right?" The doctor smiled and sat down on a stool in front of her. Walt didn't like him for some reason.

"Well it seems that its brought you on quite a journey so far. Does he have a name?" He reached out to touch the baby, but Claire pulled him back before he could. She looked up at him cautiously. Walt noticed a hint of fear in her eyes.

"His name is Aaron." Claire looked like she was going to cry. Walt wanted to go hug her, but stopped himself. "And don't' try to make me put him down because I won't. Not ever again." She looked up at him with emphasis.

The doctor moved back slowly, he looked afraid, Walt though."I understand." He reached for his stethoscope and put it on. "Would you mind if I listened to Aaron's heartbeat then? I need to make sure that he is healthy."

Walt watched as Claire seemed to consider this a moment.

"Well…ok." She let go of her son just long enough for the doctor to place his stethoscope on his chest. He kept it there for a few moments and then withdrew it. "How is he?" She asked.

The young doctor smiled. "He seems to be a very healthy baby boy." He looked down hesitantly. "I would like to examine you, as well, miss Littleton. If you don't mind that is. We just need to make sure that your body has healed correctly since the delivery." When she didn't respond, he continued. "Your baby will be in the same room with you the whole time. We can have a nurse hold him if you like. I assure you everyone here is very competent…"

"Is it really necessary?" She interrupted him. "I don't want anyone to take my baby from me."

"And no one will Miss Littleton, I promise you that. But we must make sure that you are healthy as well as your son." The doctor replied hopefully.

She thought a moment. "Well…ok. But, I want somebody I know to hold him. Somebody he knows."

"Certainly, would you like us to call a relative?" He stood and took a piece of paper from his pocket. "If you'd just give me the number…"

"Charlie. He's my friend from the island. Aaron likes him and, well, so do I. He saved my baby's life. I know that he wouldn't harm Aaron. Can you ask him to do it?"

The young doctor nodded and put away his notepad. "Of course." He stood and headed back out of the room. He walked over to the nurses station and looked at the big board which had all of the room assignments. Walt followed him, after one last hesitant look at Claire. She seemed to be ok. He was glad, he liked Claire.

"Room eight." He heard the doctor mumble to himself.

"What's that doc?" Said a nurse next to him. The doctor just frowned and took off in another direction. Walt was on his tail. He didn't trust this doctor and he wanted to make sure that he didn't hurt any of his friends. He stopped when he was outside of the room with a big eight next to it. He heard some voices inside. He smiled when he realized that it was Charlie's voice.

"Hey doc. When am I getting out of here?" His voice sounded muffled. Walt remembered that his had sounded like that once when he'd gotten a tooth pulled out. He wondered if Charlie had gotten his tooth pulled out.

"Oh not for at least twenty four hours. You've been beaten very badly. We need to keep an eye on you and make sure the swelling goes down. " Walt was curious and he opened the curtain just enough to see Charlie on the bed. His face was puffy and he had two black eyes. His leg was in a cast and there were crutches leaning up against the bed. Walt had seen those once. One time his mom had sprained her ankle. She had to use crutches for awhile. He wondered if Charlie had sprained his ankle too.

"Well I may look a wreck but I'm feeling bloody fine." Walt watched his try to get up with his crutches and he nearly fell on the floor. Walt winced.

"Sir, we really cannot let you try to walk right now. Maybe it would be best if you used a wheelchair." The doctor pulled a wheelchair out from the corner and helped Charlie into it without waiting for an answer.

"Oh sod it, whatever you say. But I have to go visit Claire. She needs me." Charlie was insistent. Walt smiled. He liked Charlie and Claire. He thought they would be a great mom and dad.

"Yes sir. Actually, that's what I came to talk to you about. Miss Littleton has requested your help. I would like to examine her, but she won't let anybody hold her baby except for you. I know in your condition it will be difficult…" The doctor was interrupted by Charlie pushing past him in the wheelchair.

"What room is she in?" He asked, heading outside into the hallway. Walt stepped back but not before Charlie saw him. "Hey Walt, how are you? How is everyone on the raft?" Charlie asked eagerly. Walt smiled. He liked Charlie. He thought he was funny.

"They're fine. My dad is here somewhere." He said instinctively. Charlie nodded.

"Well that's good. Give him my best will ya? I have to go find Claire now." Charlie headed off in the direction he assumed she was in. Walt watched him go and waved, even though he knew Charlie wasn't looking.

"Hey you!" he heard a voice behind him and turned around. It was the mean doctor, and he didn't look very happy. "What room are you supposed to be in?" Walt just stared at him, frightened and wide-eyed. He didn't say a word. "Hey kid, are you deaf or something?" He had an Australian accent, but it was a mean and angry one. Walt continued to stare at him. Finally, the man gave up yelling at him. He took Walt by the arm and led him over to the nurses station. Walt resisted and pulled away, but the doctor persisted until he had him sitting down in a chair inside of the nurses station.

"Now stay there until I can figure out who you belong to." He said and trudged away angrily. Walt planned on getting up right away, but he was stopped by the woman he had saw taking care of Sun earlier. She knelt down in front of him and smiled. He couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey there. I'm sorry about that mean old doctor, he's just crabby because he doesn't get to go home early. But the rest of us are very nice, I promise." Walt smiled. "You poor thing, everything you've been through and now you can't even go home to your warm bed yet." A thought seemed to occur to her. "You must be starving. We have some fresh baked cookies in our back room. Would you like one?" Walt nodded. A cookie did sound mighty good right now. "OK. Well you just stay right here and I'll be right back with your cookie."

He watched her walk away with a smile. She reminded him of his mom. He missed his mom, and he missed her fresh baked cookies.

"Excuse me…" He heard a strange voice barking out from the other side of the counter. He listened as a man in a blue outfit talked to the nurse.

"Yes, can I help you?"

"I have orders to come pick up a dead guy, transport him down to the morgue." He was waving a piece of paper in the woman's face.

"Oh right. Let me see." She shifted through a pile of papers on her desk as the young man grew more and more impatient. Walt was waiting for him to explode and scooted back in his seat. "Here is it. Yes, Locke is the name. We put him in Trauma B for now."

Walt froze. Had they said Locke. Locke as in John Locke? He closed his eyes. He knew that some people would die on the island. He knew that the others were bad and angry people and that they would kill some of them. But he hadn't expected his friend, Locke, to die. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He wished he could have said goodbye to the man. He had taught him so much. He was already starting to miss him, Walt thought. He felt a hollow pit developing in his stomach and he placed his hands over it.

He was startled out of the moment when he heard a familiar voice nearby. He looked up to the front counter and saw Jack standing there. He was wearing one of those funny gowns too, and he had a tube sticking out of his arm. He was saying something to the nurse. Something about not needing the tube that was in his arm. Something about him being a doctor. He wanted to go talk to Jack. He wanted to ask him what had happened to Locke. He was about to do just that when he heard a very loud scream coming from another room. He jumped out of the chair and raced to where the scream was coming from. Jack did the same, as did the nurse he was talking to.

Walt found himself in the entrance to room 10. In it was Shannon, and she would not stop screaming.

"Shannon?" He whispered. What was wrong with her? He watched as Jack rushed into the room and helped to hold Shannon down. She was screaming so loud that Walt had to cover his ears.

"She needs adivan!" Jack shouted. The nurses obeyed him without question. They ran in and Walt closed his eyes as they stuck a needle into her arm. He wanted to cry for her. He hated shots. He stayed outside and listened, as Shannon began to calm down and eventually fell asleep.

The mean doctor rushed into the room and seemed to be very angry with Jack. Walt wanted to go defend Jack, but didn't want the doctor to see him.

"Listen, your patient was in emotional distress! She needs a psych consult, not an armful of saline."

"Back off doctor!" The mean doctor stated. "I don't care how good you are at your job, wherever that is. This is my hospital and that is my patient. You touch her again and I will have you escorted out of here." He was stern and angry. Walt cringed. Jack stepped back, but never let the eye contact drop. Finally, he looked over the nurses and spoke.

"Get her a psych consult before she wakes up, or your going to have a real mess on your hands." He walked out of the room. Walt watched him go in admiration. Jack was a hero to him. He would never forget Jack.

"Hey! There you are!" He turned to see the mean doctor staring down at him. "Come on, its time I took you back to your father." Walt squirmed and tried to get out of his grasp, but it was too tight.

"Leave me alone!" He demanded. He found himself being dragged back to the room he had come from. It wasn't so much that he didn't want to be there, he just wanted to be away from this person who was frightening him so badly.

"Hey Dr. Evil." The man stopped and looked up at his accuser. Walt was both delighted and apprehensive to see Sawyer standing in front of them. Unlike the others, he was wearing normal clothes. "Leave the kid alone will ya."

"Are you his daddy?" The doctor asked, never letting go of Walt's shirt. Sawyer seemed to be just barely controlling his temper.

"Maybe I am. Or maybe I'm just a concerned bystander who's looking for a reason to trek on up to your bosses office." He paused. "You chose."

The doctor seemed to consider this a moment. Sawyer leaned back against he wall. He seemed to not be too concerned, but Walt knew better. Walt knew he would save him.

Finally, the doctor let him go. Walt hurried over to where Sawyer was and stayed there. He walked away without another word.

"Thanks doc, I appreciate it." He said in a southern drawl. All the while he was holding up his middle finger, which he quickly put away when Walt looked up at him.

"Thanks Sawyer." Walt said and smiled at him. Sawyer knelt down in front of him and reached out his hand. Walt mirrored the gesture and soon they were shaking hands.

"Its been a pleasure knowing ya kid. But I have to ask ya to do a favor for me." Walt nodded his head eagerly. He would do anything. "Me and Kate, we have to go on a little trip. And we don't want anyone to know who we are when we leave. So if anybody asks about us and if you saw us and where we went, I'm gonna need you to tell a little fib. Could ya do that for me?"

"Sure I can." Walt replied. "Where are you going?"

Sawyer considered this a moment. "Well now, we don't know yet. But its important that you don't call us Kate and Sawyer anymore, ya hear?"

"OK." Walt nodded his agreement. Sawyer stood up.

"Thanks Webster. Have a nice life. ." He winked and in a moment he had disappeared through the side exit of the emergency room. Walt watched him go, with a look solemn goodbye.

He turned around and noticed that he was back where he started, back by the room he had come from. The room right next to his dads room And suddenly, he realized that he wanted his dad more then anything. He walked hurriedly towards the room where he knew his dad was. He stopped only when he got to halfway open curtain, and realized that there was no one in the room anymore.

"Dad?" He asked. He swallowed thickly. His dad was gone. He suddenly felt very alone, just like he had on the day his mom had died.

"No, you listen to me! I demand that you tell me where my son is! This is outrageous! First you lose my son and then you refuse to let me out of this damn gown so I can go find him. I want my boy and I want him now!"

Walt turned around. There was his dad, yelling at the nurses. His dad was yelling because he wanted him. Walt smiled.

"Dad!" He shouted. This got his attention and he turned.

"Walt! Where have you been boy?" Walt ran to him and gave him a huge hug.

"I was just saying goodbye to everybody." He paused. "I love you dad."

And a smile came to Michaels face. It was the first time in a long time that he felt this good.

"I love you too Walt. Don't you worry now, everything's gonna be all right. We're gonna make this work somehow, I promise."

For Walt, the island was a chance to be the son to a father that had lost his son. For Walt, the island was a new home. The castaways, a new family. It was a chance to see what he really could do, when he put his mind to it.

And for Michael, the island was a chance to be the father he always knew he could be. For Michael, the island was a way for him to bond with his son and to provide for him in a way that only a father can. The castaways had taught him how to be a flexible parent, John Locke in particular. For Michael, the plane crash was the beginning of a whole new life.