A/N: Thanks again to my reviewers ((Ruby Foxburr of Loamsdown, Evermore, and Flame 31)), you guys are the best! :) Oh, and I'm taking one or two creative liberties this chapter on the characters pasts, but nothing big.

"Dreams that do come true can be as unsettling as those that don't". –Brett Butler

Boone could never remember running this fast in his entire life. It almost didn't even seem like he was running, but that his feet had taken on wings and were flying just over the surface of the ground. No obstacle was stopping him and his speed never slowed, although his body felt no exertion. It would have been a beautiful feeling if an anticipation of certain dread wasn't lingering in him.

The scream, that was the only thing he could focus on, and he could barely wrap his mind around that. It had to have been her, he'd immediately recognized the voice and that was when he'd started running. It wasn't supposed to happen that way; she was supposed to have stayed in the camp and he would go back to find her waiting for him, pissed off as ever that he'd even gone off in the first place. This was not how he'd ever imagined it would be…

His feet slowed as he neared one of the forest's clearings, but his steps were as guided as before. He wasn't sure if he wanted to see what lay beyond the final clump of trees, but it was as if he had no choice.

With a final step, he emerged from the trees…

"Boone… Boone, wake up."

Boone shook his head and rolled over onto his back with a grunt, trying to clear the sleepy fog from his eyes. He noticed the sky was dark now and through the trees he could see the glow of the stars that hadn't been obscured by clouds. He reckoned it was about seven or eight-ish now.

"Are you alright?" Locke's voice asked from across the small, smoldering campfire, "You seemed pretty restless."

"Huh?" Boone yawned as his brain slowly registered and transitioned into a more aware state, "Oh, no, I'm fine, just had a weird dream." Stretching, he crossed his legs and sat up straighter, "So, when are we going to start on that hunk of metal again?"

"I was just waiting for you to wake up." Locke said as he stood up, fingering the knife in his belt thoughtfully before turning and walking a couple yards away to the place they'd left off on earlier that day. Boone picked up a thick branch, held it in the fire until the end lighted and followed Locke, who had already started to clear away the mud.

Boone got down on his knees and began to do the same, but he couldn't get his mind off of the dream. He'd never believed dreams really meant anything before then, but after that one, he wasn't sure anymore. It had felt so real at the time and, to be perfectly honest, it had frightened him more than any horror movie he could ever remember seeing. What he needed was s second opinion.

"Locke?" Boone asked as he wiped dirt and mud off the metal, "What do you think about, err, dreams?" Locke glanced up and gave him a slightly puzzled expression as he hastily continued, "You know, like are they just random brain waves or do they actually mean anything?"

Locke looked back down and continued wiping away and said nothing for a moment. Boone really hadn't been expecting an answer, anyway, but it felt better to muse his thoughts out loud.

"I think it depends," Locke remarked without looking up, surprising Boone, "Most dreams…well, they're probably just static from the brain. Others, though, I think they're warnings, maybe even small glimpses at something else, like the future. A deja vu of sorts." Locke turned his head in the direction of Boone, "Does this have anything to do about earlier?"

Boone nodded, "I was running, in this dream I mean, really, really fast, and I was going somewhere. I don't know where, well, I mean I did know where, but I didn't at the same time." Boone paused, "Making sense so far?"

Locke answered, "Enough."

"So then I remember just thinking over and over again that…that something wasn't supposed to happen. Someone had screamed, and I think that's where I was going, to help whoever it was. I recognized the voice and that was when I started running through the jungle, this jungle." Boone tried to replay the snippets of his dream he could remember, but it was all cloudy, "I think there was a clearing and I really didn't want to go in there, something wasn't right about it. Then I woke up." Boone shrugged and went back to wiping off the grime and grit.

Locke was silent and he had stopped cleaning. Eventually he responded, "You want my opinion?"

"Sure."

"Most likely it was stress. You fell asleep unsettled and unresolved and your mind probably fed off of that. I wouldn't worry about it." Locke reassured him, but Boone was suspicious. Something about the way Locke spoke chilled Boone, but he accounted it all to nerves. Why would Locke lie to him?

So he took Locke's advice and pushed the dream as far from his thoughts as he could.

----------

Sayid was far more cautious this time about than he had been before, avoiding all the traps on his way and for once felt incredibly thankful for his military background. Finally he stood in front of the trap door, hesitating.

The scuffling below him stopped; she knew someone had come. It was now or never.

"Danielle, its Sayid." He began quickly, hoping she would recognize his name; otherwise the greeting would not be as welcoming as he would like. A bullet in his chest was not high on the list of Sayid's wishes.

There was a noise from below that almost sounded like a squeak of some sort and more rustling and then silence once again. Sayid took a step back and prepared to run at the first sign of danger. Danielle was as unpredictable as she was secretive.

The ground moved slightly and a chuck of earth began to rise into the air as if it were on hinges. Two bright eyes shown out from under it, the face was obscured by shadows.

"The artisan has returned." Mused a quiet voice from the owner of the eyes, "I never expected you back so soon."

"Hello, Danielle." Sayid greeted in return.

"Get in before They see you." She hissed and the eyes disappeared from the opening as Sayid slid through and climbed down the ladder, keeping his eyes averted from the metal bed in the corner of the room as he looked around for Danielle.

"What brings you?" She asked tonelessly from her stool perch where she sat with her legs crossed, eyes watching his every movement, "I didn't think I'd ever see you after you ran away that day."

Lying to her was pointless. Someone with her sense of paranoia would see through it in a second.

"I… we need your help." Sayid explained carefully, "Two of our people were kidnapped. One they tried to kill and the other is still held by them. We need to get her back."

Danielle's eyes narrowed, but she didn't move or speak.

"You know of these…things in the jungle, more than all of us combined know. Two groups are out seeking her, but there have been…worries that their chance of locating her in time is slim." He let the words hang in the air and waited for an answer.

He was surprised at how well she'd listened while he was speaking. The last time they'd met she'd been on edge the whole time, but now she seemed calmer in a way. Just as untrusting, but calmer. Now her fingers were gripping the edge of the stool and her eyes were narrowed and unblinking.

"You left. Why should I help you?" She asked, bitter contempt in her voice that surprised Sayid. It was some of the first real emotion he'd ever heard from her that hadn't been a result of paranoia.

Sayid squirmed uncomfortably under her indecipherable gaze and then stood to leave, "You're right, you have no reason to help us." He nodded a goodbye and turned to leave, hoping she'd put up some kind of argument as he neared the ladder.

There was silence in the room. He turned his head back around to look at her.

She hadn't moved from the stool, but she was no longer watching him. Her eyes were still on the place he'd sat a moment ago and she was murmuring quietly to herself.

Sayid sighed. He hadn't wanted to go as far as he was about to, it was just his final plan to win her agreement as she'd shot down his other ideas.

"The woman they took," Sayid began slowly, "was pregnant. We think…. we think they may be after the child."

Danielle's eyes shot over to him and widened. Jumping off the stool, she sent it clattering to the dirt as she disappeared into the wire cage she'd been in the first time he'd seen her. Shuffling and things falling off of shelves could be heard, then nothing.

"Danielle?" Sayid ventured warily.

"Out!"

"But, Danielle, I-" Sayid began.

"OUT!"

He knew he'd overstayed his welcome and he pulled himself up the ladder as quickly as he could and crawled out of the opening under the trap door.

That had not gone as well as it should have. His plans had failed miserably. Now he had to return to camp empty handed. At least he'd proven Sawyer wrong, but that really didn't matter to him then. Not only did he not receive her help, he was almost certain that he wasn't welcome around there again. It irritated him how much that particular thought bothered him…

Picking up his walking stick from the ground, he began the long path back to the beach camp with just enough daylight left to guide him there.

After a little while, he heard vague rustling noises from the ferns near him. His hand tightened on the branch and he stopped, listening, his mind flashing to the voices he'd heard before. But this was a different sound, one a single being might make while traveling through the forests, and there were no words to this sound.

He knew who it was.

Turning back to his path, he trudged forward, the smallest of smiles appearing on his face.

----------

Maybe this isn't the best idea…

Shannon brushed the voice from her thoughts and continued to pack a backpack with enough food and water to last a couple days. She was determined to follow through with her own plan. It was safe enough, she'd just be following the direction she'd seen him leave and try to follow him from there, simple and straightforward.

She was too preoccupied to be bothered by the possible dangers, which she had briefly thought about before packing. If she just stayed quiet and was aware of her surroundings she'd be fine.

Throwing her bag over her shoulder, she looked back at the beach one last time. She would prove herself, she knew it. Taking a deep breath, she stepped into the forest, unnoticed by the other survivors as she slipped away into the disappearing light.

----------

Kate was pushing herself harder than she could ever remember doing before. Her build was not one of a sprinter, which she was becoming more aware of the further she ran, but her speed was surprisingly fast for the time she'd been going. None of that concerned her though; her only focus was on reaching Jack as soon as she could before… Her mind always stopped there.

Leaping over a rock, she skidded and almost lost her footing on the moss below it before throwing herself back to balance.

How much further could he be? He wasn't even running…

But after twenty minutes she still hadn't caught him, and the worry she'd felt while talking to Charlie was tranquility compared to now. Her heart was hammering, and she was pretty sure it wasn't just from all the exercise.

Don't be stupid. She told herself, trying to calm down. You've seen death before, this won't be any different.

Except it would, and no matter how much she told herself otherwise she didn't believe it.

Five minutes later she was slowing, exhausted and frustrated, adrenaline still pumping in her blood. Leaning onto one of the trees she stopped, inhaling deeply and trying to will herself to start running again.

With her distractions, it was no surprise she didn't hear the movement near her.

"Well, well, your kind just keeps popping up, don't they?" Commented a voice form behind her in a mildly amused tone, "They can't just mind their own business and have to go butting in where they're not wanted."

The voice froze Kate's blood, though she couldn't remember ever hearing it before. Slowly she turned her head around to look over her shoulder.

Ethan wore no expression; he rarely did. It was an asinine waste of energy designed by lower mortals to express emotions, which he valued less than expressions.

Kate faced him, standing as tall as she could and planted her feet, looking for any means of possible escape. She knew her chances against him if it came to physical defense and they were certainly not in her favor.

"I wouldn't try running." He added lightly and then took a step towards her. She backed away.

"Your kind has cost me more time than I was allotted to finish my job. They were highly displeased and here one of you is trying to stop me again." He made a tisking noise, "Obviously one death was not enough of a lesson."

For a moment Kate was sure she was going to be sick. He had to be talking about Claire or, more likely, Jack. Then she remembered Charlie.

He was the one death. Ethan didn't know he was alive…

And she was not about to let him.

"Wha…what are you talking about?" She stammered, holding her ground and thanking every god she could think of for that high school drama class her mom had made her take.

Ethan chuckled in a way that sent a shiver down Kate's spine, "You didn't find him yet? Pity, the boars will have by now. No wonder you came out here… I'll just have to make your body easier to find this time."

Kate took another step back, "You killed Charlie!" She hissed and then did the next thing she thought of, spitting on his shoe, "Bastard!"

"Ah, I'd forgotten that was his name. I thought Charlie was the short rocker?" Ethan said in his same dulcet tone with slight confusion.

Kate raised her eyebrows. But he was talking about Charlie, wasn't he?

"He is. Everyone else besides Charlie and Claire are back at the camp…" She lied, "You killed Charlie…"

Ethan's mouth twisted slightly into something Kate guessed was a wicked smile, "I thought you were smarter than that, Kate." He took another step forward as Kate took a smaller one backwards. The space between Ethan and the tree behind her was almost gone.

"I killed Charlie two days ago. I'm surprised Locke hasn't found him yet, it's pathetic." Ethan stated bluntly and Kate resisted the throbbing urge to punch him hard across the jaw.

"No, no, I would never bring up a murder more than a day old. Then it's just bragging." Ethan took another step forward and Kate moved away, her back hitting the tree, "The one I'm talking about is much more recent."

Kate was beginning to feel sick again, but hid it, "How could you have gotten to anyone else? They're all back at the camps… unless you killed Claire?" The sick feeling grew.

He shook his head, "Kate, Kate, you and I both know you're lying. There was another with you; that little doctor friend of yours."

Her fingers rolled up into fists at her side, "If you even touched him, I swear to god I'll-"

Ethan just stood there, the small smirk back on his face and all Kate could feel was hatred through every bit of her soul. She'd never hated anyone that much, not the marshal, not her father, no one. To Kate, Ethan was no longer human, he was a fiend. He'd emotionally wrecked Claire and Charlie, who he'd then tried to kill, and now he'd succeeded in murdering Jack for no reason other than he'd tried to save a pregnant woman.

Kate screamed and threw herself at him.