Hurley had completed his census awhile ago, but it still worried him how little the survivors knew of each other. Everyone was busy keeping their stomachs filled and their heads attached to their necks, so life stories weren't told much. But Hurley felt like he ought to make an effort to discover who the others were. He knew he wasn't much help in the physical work department, so he tried to contribute to the island community by preempting potential mental breakdowns- and he thought he could do his job better if he understood who he was dealing with.
He had already studied most of the islanders, watching them go about their daily tasks. For the most part they seemed remarkably well, considering the circumstances they were living under. It's amazing what the human body can adapt to when adaption is the only option.
Jack had proven himself to be a true leader. Kate was pensive but stable, as were Michael and Walt. Jin and Sun were inscrutable, Claire and Charlie were naive but endearing. Locke was a capable man but a borderline psychotic, Sayid was brilliant but reserved, Sawyer was a prick. Of course, none of them were that easily classified, but Hurley could only focus on so much at a time, and at the moment his attention was occupied by the island's only pair of siblings.
There was something bizarre about that relationship. To be sure, it could be only the result of a typically dysfunctional family. But as Hurley watched Boone glare viciously from the woods to where his sister sat chatting to Sayid, Hurley rather thought there was more to the story then that.
Locke came silently up behind Boone, startling the boy by speaking softly. "Let's get going, shall we?" His disturbingly all-knowing flicked between Boone and the beach scene, taking in the situation immediately and without words.
It wasn't until they were trekking through the jungle that Locke commented. "I thought you were going to let it go."
Boone forged ahead without looking over, and spoke with faint hostility. "I am letting it go. But after thirteen years of holding on it might take longer then a week."
Locke turned his head towards the younger man and said simply "Perhaps you had better tell me about her."
Boone was silent for a long moment, hiking quickly and lost in thought. Finally he spoke, though his voice sounded distant.
"I was ten when my mom married her dad, and she was eight. She was the prettiest girl I had ever seen, and I was pretty shell-shocked at the time. She was sweet back then too- spoiled, of course, but roguish and charming. She used to put a sleeping bag on my floor after scary movies and play basketball on the backyard court.
She did well in school. Not that she ever tried much, but she's smart and since good grades in our house meant shiny bracelets and cars she was willing enough to take a test here and there. She's always been athletic- she needs to keep her figure and she prefers the tennis court to a treadmill. By the time she was fourteen she was a lot like she is now- she just doesn't care. Or maybe she does, but doesn't want to. How the hell would I know?
She lives everywhere, does whatever she wants. She's stubborn, and she doesn't hold back because of potential danger. I know how she comes off, and it's accurate for the most part- she is rich, she does go club hopping, and most of the time she's a brat."
They had reached the hatch, and stood staring at the mysterious door. Boone continued speaking as they stood there immobile.
"But when she was eleven she jumped off the house roof because she wanted to know what it felt like to fly, and never complained about the consequent broken bones and concussion. And she skis the Alps as though the devil himself were chasing her down the mountain. Sometimes I think she believes he is."
Night fell upon the island, bringing with it cooler temperatures and a sense of solitude and peace. The survivors were in the caves or near the beach bonfire, mostly silent. The sense of fear which occasionally infected the atmosphere had left, at least temporarily. They had taken to posting sentries around the perimeters of their camps, though, a precaution they should have taken long ago.
The beach camp was finally settling down to sleep on their cots of branches, with their standard airline blankets. And then the ground started to shake.
For a moment noone responded to the quake, remaining where they lay as though frozen. Then as though by some unspoken symbol the camp was in motion. It wasn't an earthquake- something was moving through the jungle. Something big. Sayid was willing to lay even money that it was whatever had eaten the pilot.
The survivors huddled close around the bonfire. At the edge of the group Locke and Sayid were discussing what ought to be done. The shaking had ceased and whatever had been in the woods seemed to have moved on, so an armed hunting party seemed ridiculous- in the dark it would stand no chance. Locke spoke to the small, uneasy crowd, telling then to stay near the fire and try to get some sleep. He then turned to Sayid and said reasonably "You ought to get some sleep too. You've been on sentry duty two nights running, and the last thing we need is for you to drop from exhaustion."
Sayid could be stubborn, when he felt it prudent to be so, but he was also rational. He was very tired, and had been depending on getting a decent night's rest. Trusting Locke to alert to any further dangers, he spread his blanket out a little way from the main group.
Shannon was huddled by the fire, Boone standing by her with a worried expression. When she had been a kid she had had recurring nightmares about invisible monsters, and he thought this might be too much for her. But his hovering was annoying her and she told him so with some force. Offended he stalked off to his watch post.
Sayid watched this little interaction from where he lay, his head propped up on his arm. He saw Boone leave, and once her brother was gone Shannon drew her blanket closer around her shoulders, seeming to settle in for a long night. In the firelight she looked very frail.
Sayid cared about Shannon. The survivors had only known each other for a month, a period of time that would have once been considered fleeting. But under these conditions people grew close quickly, and the bonds they were forming were the sort that could last a lifetime.
Sayid sat up and called her name. Shannon turned her head towards him, and when he gestured she got up and went over, settling on the sand beside him.
Boone might have thought her frightened but Sayid perceived instantly that she wasn't. She just looked a little...lost. As though she didn't quite understand how her life had gone from BMWs and black diamond slopes to a primal and precarious existence in the jungle.
"You ought to sleep, Shannon" Sayid said softly. "There's another long day to come, and another after that."
Shannon nodded silently and spread her blanket out beside him. Pillowing her head on his shoulder she closed her eyes, and for perhaps the first time in her life she knew for certain that she had a friend- a real friend, who wanted what was best for her. Comforted by that thought amidst the confusion of everything else, she soon dropped off to sleep.
Sayid was surprised by the apparently random gesture of trust, and touched. He had never seen anything to suggest that Shannon was in general very affectionate, so her defenses must have been lowered by one thing or another. He held her until breathing grew even, and then let sleep overtake him also.