A/N: Jaye: Hey, we're back again! Ha, duh! Yes, I know all of you must HATE us for that cliffhanger—but it was fun anyway! HA! (Guess who's sugar high!)

Lils: Uh...you? Oy everyone! Just want to take time to say hullo…so…time up. I've got a life to attend to. ((turns back around)) Just kidding! Welcome to the grand opening of the long-awaited chapter six! After that last cliffhanger I'm surprised there weren't any riots!

Now, to reply to our reviewers:

Bec: Okay! Thanks for reviewing…twice. YOU MUST BE SO DEDICATED! ((lol))

Irionelissa: It's beginning to clear, you think? Hopefully…we wouldn't want you to be lost in your mind for too long…and the whole thing with Weiss and Nadia is SUPPOSED to be confusing!

Lil Aussie Alias Chick: Yes, but it is happening! ((maniacal laughter)) Thanks for reviewing!

Jaye Black: Eh. You again. JUST KIDDING! And I am back for your information. Now YOU get back from SCHOOL and frickin' e-mail me, okay?

Dandan2300: You're going to…kill us? IT WAS ALL JAYE'S EVIL PLAN! And yes, I shall join your cheers for Sark and… "Vaughnie"…

Vaughnloveralwaysandforev: Love your penname! And we are not mean…just…okay yeah. I'll go with you on that one. Ha.

Lils: NOW ON WITH THE CHAPTER!

Chapter six: Reflections

"What?" Kate staggered backward, horrified. Jack's words swam in and out of her head, and she found that she was shaking. The thought of Sydney being gone – the thought of her new friend and fellow, understanding agent not being there for her – was unbearable.

"She's gone, Kate," Vaughn said hollowly.

"No…no," Kate said shakily. "What…what happened? How did she…how did this happen?"


Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Two fake agents were in the helicopter…she fought them and the wounds split open…and she lost too much blood," Vaughn said.

He looked close to tears as well, but was standing tall, trying to hold it all in. Kate just shook her head at them and plowed through Jack. She gasped when she saw Sydney lying there, her eyes closed, her face seeming peaceful enough, but her shirt stained dark red.

"No," she gasped. "NO!" She grabbed Sydney's hand and stroked the hair back from her forehead. "We can save her!"

"Kate…" Jack looked petrified.

"I don't want to hear it!" Her mind reeled. "You brought C-Charlie back! E-even though he had been…uh…Jack, you can't let her die!" Her voice was trembling, high-pitched. It didn't sound like her voice at all.

"Kate – "

"YOU CAN SAVE HER!"

By this time, the crowd around Jack and Kate had gone silent. Claire buried her face in Charlie's shoulder, who was staring, misty-eyed, at Sydney's bloodstained chest. Kate burst into tears and, shoulders heaving, began to place her hands on Sydney's wounds. She had never been the doctoring type, but knew something about keeping pressure… "Jack, help me."

"Kate…"

"HELP ME!"

"KATE—SHE'S GONE! I CAN'T BRING HER BACK!" Jack shouted. An eerie silence followed. Kate stood up straight and smacked Jack across the face.

"JUST HELP ME—"

She looked desperately around the gathering, tears streaming down her face. "You brought Charlie…back…" When it seemed no one would help her, she turned to Sydney again. "I – I don't know what to do…I don't know what to do…"

And then someone peeled her away from Sydney's body. She turned to face Sun, who was carrying a bunch of green herbs. "Oh, Sun…not – "

"They will help!" Sun said earnestly. Jack looked amazed. Sun pressed forward, pulling Sydney's shirt up just far enough to reveal the wounds caused by the monster. They had stopped bleeding, and were now oozing slightly; purple forming around each tear in Sydney's flesh, standing out horribly against the agent's deathly pale complexion.

Jack took a step back. "There's nothing you can do…guys…there's no way…"

"Don't tell me what I can't do," Kate shot, wiping her tears away. "Sun, what do I need to do?" she asked, fighting to keep her voice calm.

"Try to revive her," said Sun as she began to spread the crushed herbs on Sydney's wounds. Kate looked back at Jack, her eyes hard.

"Okay." She leaned over Sydney.

"I have to admit," said Sawyer in his southern drawl. He was seated on the forest floor, his arms folded behind his head, his dusty blonde hair hiding his eyes, "she's got a pretty good arm, don't cha think?"

Sark had sunk to his knees, tired of standing, and was glaring at the matted assortment of leaves, grass, and mud that was the ground. Sawyer laughed unpleasantly. "Don't feel bad," he said. "I've gotten hit by Kate plenty of – "

"Sawyer."

Sark looked up and saw Agent Vaughn and Sayid walking into the clearing. Sighing, he looked back down at a yellow leaf some inches below his nose.

"Yeah? What do you want, Mohammad? And what about your girlfriend, there, CIA?"

"Cute nicknames," Vaughn muttered. Sark could tell he was annoyed just by the tone of his voice.

"Well? It's sweet that you've come to see me 'n all, but…"

"We're not here to see you," said Sayid. Sark felt a shadow fall over him, and he lifted his gaze to see the dark-skinned man crouching down in front of him. "We're here about the weapon case."

His voice, Sark decided, was not cold, but it wasn't friendly either. "You're going to tell us where it is, aren't you?"

"No."

"You might want to rethink that, Sark," Vaughn said. HIS voice, Sark noted, was cold, but also hoarse, as though something had happened that had shaken him horribly.

"Where is Agent Bristow?" Sark suddenly asked. "Surely she would like a part in making me miserable."

"Yeah, she would," Vaughn said in a closed off voice. "If she were still…breathing."

Sark raised his eyebrows. This was a shock to him…and as much as Sark had wanted her dead, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness and grief for his long-time foe. "She's…dead?"

"Yeah. Yeah, she…she is," Vaughn ran a hand over his face.

"How, may I ask, did it happen?"

"Where, may I ask, is the gun case?" Vaughn said, the hard, cold mask being pulled back on.

"I asked you first," Sark said simply.

In a swift move, Vaughn pulled Sark to his feet and pinned the smaller man to the tree, his legs at least a half a foot from the ground, with his arm. He slammed his other fist into Sark's face and let go. Sark fell in a heap onto the ground.

Sawyer stared at Vaughn. "You got a good arm too, CIA," he said, glaring at Sark with a smug look in his eyes. "Mind if I try?"

Vaughn turned slightly and glared at him. "You'll get your turn."

Melanie was sobbing into her hands when Claire walked up to her. "Hey…what's…what's wrong?" Claire asked.

"It's Carter!" Melanie cried. "I can't find him! I've looked all through the jungle, back at the old camp, in the caves, around the beach—I can't find him anywhere! I'm so scared! And no one's helping me! Ana Lucia's hurt, so she can't; the Agent woman's dead, so Kate and the doctor are there—everyone else is torturing that git that hurt Charlie—no one will help!"

"I'll help," Claire offered. "And…I'm sure Charlie will too…I'm not signing him up for anything, but I can ask him…"

"Thank you so much!"

Claire smiled, although she still felt somewhat troubled. Everywhere she went there was a tragedy going on. There was no rest, nowhere to feel calm…but the hopeful look in Mel's eyes gave her new strength.

"No trouble. Where did you last see him?"

Melanie pressed her arm under her nose and sniffed, hard.

"I…after Charlie came back, I think," she said. "He was acting really weird, you know, just not like Carter. I understand it was his birthday…but ever since we went and found Charlie he just…" Tears welled up in her eyes again. "We have to find him!"

"Melanie…calm down…"

"He can't be out there alone. He'll get hurt just like Charlie and Sydney!"

"You tell us where the case is and this will all stop."

Sark looked up at Sayid. His vision was blurry, his head swimming, throbbing, but he could still see the glint in Sayid's dark eyes. It was confusing…hatred and calm rolled into one, big, swirling color…Things were beginning to slip away from him. Simple things – things he should know – they were all disappearing in the darkness that was slowly sweeping into the corners of his mind. "Julian, just tell us where the case is."

Sayid looked into Sark's eyes. There was still no answer waiting there. He sighed. "You are only causing yourself pain," he said miserably, and then stepped back into the huddle made by Sawyer, Vaughn, and himself. "This is not working."

"What are you talking about?" Sawyer hissed. "You got answers outta people for a living. This guy can't be any diff'rnt"

"Sometimes it takes more than a senseless beating to get answers," said Vaughn. "Sometimes it just takes the right person, and none of us are it."

"Who is it then, CIA?" Sawyer snarled.

"Lauren," Sark whispered. Vaughn closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Sark—Lauren's dead. She can't be here!"

"Who's Lauren?" Sawyer asked, now interested.

"My ex-wife. She tried to kill me…and Syd…" Vaughn trailed off.

"She's the only one I'll tell…" Sark moaned.

"You're delusional!" Vaughn yelled.

"Only one…"

Carter leaned against a tree in the middle of the jungle, slowly drinking from his large water bottle and catching his breath. He had seen something…smoke, coming from somewhere on the other side of the jungle. He wanted to know what it was.

He sighed, put the cap back on his bottle, and started walking again. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, but his face was set in a determined frown.

He felt a pang of guilt as he thought about how Melanie was probably going insane looking for him. He probably should have told her he was going, but then she would have gone along, and he couldn't have her get hurt.

He leaned wearily away from the tree, waiting, watching. Of course he had heard all about what had happened to Sydney. He had been standing there, hidden, listening. The corners of his mind crawled with nightmarish thoughts. He saw himself lying on the "hospital bed", his eyes closed, never to open again.

Feeling squeamish, he pushed the thoughts from his mind and let a more calming image drift there…Melanie's face. She would be proud of him – she would have to be. After all, maybe what he had seen was a way to get her off the island.

As he walked onward, he silently chanted this: Proud. Home. Way off. Melanie.

If he wants to talk to a dead girl, he must've lost his mind," said Sawyer simply, flipping the hair from his face.

"That may be. But perhaps we can make him think he's talking to the woman he mentioned. Vaughn, what was Lauren like?"

"Shannon, would you be able to help us?" Sayid asked the young blonde girl, after explaining the situation.

"No, Shan, you can't!" Boone protested.

"I will," Shannon said—mostly to spite her brother. "I just need to do a British accent and ask him where the gun case is?"

"Yes," Sayid nodded.

"Well, which way?"

"Carter! Carter!" Claire, Melanie, and Charlie were walking, shouting the boy's name over and over again.

"Carter, you git, come back!" Melanie screamed.

"OY! CARTER!" Charlie bellowed. This is hopeless, Charlie thought sadly. There's no way we'll find him…

But like Claire, he had been swayed to help—and now, to keep looking—by the lost, helpless look on Melanie's tear-streaked face.

"Where could he have bloody disappeared to – ahh!" Charlie gasped and fell backwards as the bald head of John Locke poked through the leaves.

"Oh, it's just you," Claire breathed, who had also jumped.

"Sorry. Be on my way."

"No…wait…" Claire managed a stressed smile. "Could you help us?"

Locke looked down at the ground, then back at Claire. "Well I don't see why not. What can I help you with?"

"Well, it's my friend, Carter. He went off somewhere and we can't find him," explained Melanie. "He's taller than me, with dark hair…you haven't seen him, have you?"

"Can't say I have. But I'll tell you what. I'll help you look."

"Thank you!" Melanie said breathlessly.

Charlie hung back, and when it seemed no one would help him to his feet, he stood up grumpily and shoved his hands in his hoodie, thinking, what is Locke doing out here?

Shannon took a deep breath as she stepped up to the tree where Sark was handcuffed. She noticed at once how bad he looked, and at once felt a stab of pity. She made to step forward, but a hand held her back.

"Shannon, you don't have to – "

"Don't tell me what to do, Boone. Get off of me…I can do this. I can ask where he put the stupid gun case, okay?" She elbowed her way out of her stepbrother's grasp and bent down to the ground, trying to get her eyes level with those of the terrorist, just as Sayid had said.

"Um…Julian?" she asked, and heard her brother snicker. Her British accent needed work.

Sark looked up at her, seeming confused, half-awake. It then occurred to her that he had lost a lot of blood. She shivered. "C-can you tell me w-where the gun case is?"

"Louder," said Sayid. "More direct."

Shannon held her gaze.

"The gun case. Where did you hide it? Y-you can tell me."

"Lauren…you came back," Sark moaned. "The gun case…it is in…a hatch…saying the numbers will…open it…"

Sark lost consciousness. Shannon shakily stood, then turned and gave Boone a weak smirk. "See?" she said. "I'm not worthless…"

Boone rolled his eyes and guided her back to the beach.

Kate, Sun, and Jack remained in the caves with the possibly dead Sydney.

"Thanks for your help Sun," Kate said, unable to bring her voice above a whisper. She turned around, unable to look at Sydney anymore.

"Kate…" Jack bit his lip and ran a hand across his sweaty forehead.

"I'm fine." Kate's words were hollow. "I just need to…get some rest." With that, she left the caves and headed off toward the beach, Sun trailing behind her, leaving Jack standing alone with the agent. He felt his legs wobble, and took a seat on the ground, raking his hands through his short hair.

"Jack!"

Jack looked up, slightly annoyed, to see Sawyer, Vaughn, and Sayid running at him, each of them looking excited. "Jack, we know where the gun case is!" Vaughn cried.

"You know where the – where's Sark?"

"He's takin' a nap," Sawyer replied, smirking somewhat.

"But that's not important…" said Vaughn quickly. "We know where the gun case is! Take us to the hatch…"

"What hatch? You mean – " Jack's eyes suddenly glazed over. Vaughn didn't fully understand, but he went on.

"Sark said the weapon case was in the "hatch", and that we had to say the…the numbers to open it." He faltered. "Only…none of us know what the numbers are."

Hurley sat on the beach, listening to his dying Walkman, and murmuring the numbers over and over again. "4…8…15…16…23…42…"

"Hey—Hurley? Those numbers…" Vaughn walked up to him. "Would you be able to write them down for us? We're using all number combinations that we can think of…"

"Uh…what numbers?"

"Hurley."

"Dude, the numbers—they're bad! You can't use them."

Vaughn resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes.

"Hurley, this is important – "

"Yeah?" This news didn't seem to matter much to the large man.

"Really important?"

"Dude, you can't use those numbers!"

"Why not?"

"Because…I wouldn't expect you to understand…but they're bad! They broke my mom's ankle, man." He saw the look on Vaughn's face and sighed. "And a lot of other bad stuff. Some dude went out the window!"

Vaughn leaned down in the sand, looking Hurley in the eyes.

"We need the numbers," he said firmly. Hurley squirmed, closed his eyes, and shouted,

"FOUR EIGHT FIFTEEN SIXTEEN TWENTY-THREE FORTY-TWO!"

"Thank – "

But remarkably, Hurley was already up and waddling away as fast as he could go across the beach. "Huh."

Melanie was beyond scared now. Charlie was beyond annoyed now. Claire was beyond emotion. (A/N – Lils: I laugh every time I read that…oh…sorry for the interruption) She felt deep pity for the young, close to hysterical girl that was walking beside her.

"Do you think that he's…dead?" Melanie whispered.

Claire had no idea how to answer this. "I—I don't…"

"Shh." Locke put his arm out. The troop stopped, close to toppling over each other.

"What is it?" Charlie asked grumpily. No one answered him; they were all staring through the dense leaves, trying to see what Locke saw.

"False alarm," Melanie said finally, sighing heavily. "A branch fell some ways off. Still no sign of…" It seemed as though she couldn't bring herself to finish. Oh Carter…where are you? Please be okay, she thought desperately.

Carter paused again, feeling exceptionally hot, sticky, and lost. He smacked irritably at a think leaf that was in his way, and stepped forward, only to find that the landscape had changed quite dramatically, almost alarmingly. After ducking his way out of the thick underbrush, he found himself in a clearing, with waist-high grass all around him. The sun beat down on the slope he now stood on.

To one side there was jungle that swung around in an arch behind him. Out in the distance he could see the sea, and a thin line of powered gold; the beach that he had left. Above him the slope continued upward, the grass thinning as it met rock…

And sitting on top of one of the rock plateau was a tall, apparently man-made structure. Carter gasped, looking up at in awe. A radio tower. The explanation came to him from thin air, even though he had never seen a tower such as the one above him before.

His heart started beating faster. He grinned triumphantly, and set out for the tower.

"You should probably go back," Locke said. "It's getting dark. I'll meet you here tomorrow morning, and we'll keep searching."

Melanie, who looked dead on her feet, shook her head. "No—I'm not going back without him!" she said weakly.

"Come on, Melanie!" Charlie said, looking concerned. "You're about to pass out—you need rest! I'll come back with you tomorrow!"

Melanie shook her head again. "No…" she whispered. She crumpled onto the ground, narrowly missing hitting her head only because Charlie caught her.

"We'll take her back…" he said, nodding to Locke. "And I'll be back with her first thing tomorrow."

Locke nodded, smiling. "All right. See you tomorrow, Charlie."

Charlie picked up Melanie, and started to carry her. Claire gave him a strange look.

"You don't look like you would be…able to carry someone by yourself," she said honestly, blushing slightly.

"Heh," Charlie said, grinning at her. "I used to carry the amps and instruments for the band, you know, before we hit it big and got roadies."

"Ah. Okay."

"A-anyway…Claire…" he took a deep breath, remembering what he had tucked inside his bag. "If you knew something horrible about me, would you still – you know – like me?"

"I have the numbers!" said Vaughn as he trotted up to where Jack, Sayid, and Sawyer were waiting. "But…Hurley, the guy that gave them to me, said – "

"Never mind what Stay-Puff said," snapped Sawyer, suddenly back to his normal, grumpy self. "Let's just get that case. Unless you wanna stay and have a tea-party…"

Jack and Vaughn gave Sawyer exasperated looks.

"You know where this hatch is?" Vaughn asked.

"Yes," Jack and Sayid replied at the same time.

"Well isn't that sweet?" Sawyer drawled. "You all have your own little secret. You have a pledge, too? Cubscout?"

"Sawyer, shut up," Jack sighed, adjusting his pack. "We need to get moving before it gets too dark to find the way back."

They filed out of the caves, Jack leading the way. They cut through the dense jungle in silence, each of them tense. Finally they came to a stop at the edge of a trench. "Well, whaddya know?" Sawyer even laughed. "You have a clubhouse, too."

But the others ignored him. Jack and Vaughn jumped on to the hatch.

"He said we had to say them," Vaughn said, more to himself. He leaned over the foggy glass at the top of the hatch and repeated the numbers Hurley had given him, feeling a chill set over the forest as he did so.

A deep yellow light came from the window of the hatch. Vaughn stood up and stepped back. The hatch opened…revealing a shallow pit with a case in it. Vaughn jumped down the six or so feet to the case.

"Is it there?" Sayid called down.

"Yes!" Vaughn pulled up the case. He recognized it instantly. Standard CIA model, with insolated foam interior fitting four top-of-the-line handguns that meant business, two assembly-required rifles, a compact first-aid kit, a few pairs of plastic, adjusting handcuffs, and under a hidden flap, a compartment for needle injections. Vaughn remembered that Charlie had said something about an injection.

Feeling victorious, he heaved the case back up the ladder that led back up into sunlight. Jack grabbed it at once, heaving a sigh of relief. He didn't know why, but for some reason he felt better now.

"Nicely done," Sayid said, examining the case over Jack's shoulder. "We should head back now." He looked up at the sunlight that was quickly fading through the trees.

Charlie and Claire sat by the fire, sharing one of the few blankets. Melanie was laying a little ways off, thoroughly exhausted.

"So," Charlie said quietly. "Do you think that we'll ever find this guy?"

Claire glanced at Melanie, then turned back to Charlie and shook her head. "But…you never know. Jack found you…and Locke and Boone found me, after almost a week. He's only been gone for a day. We might…still find him…"

"He didn't seem to like me very much," Charlie mused. "He was always glaring at me for some reason."

"I think he has a crush on Melanie," Claire whispered. "And I think that Melanie…has a crush on you. Might be a celeb-crush, but still. He's jealous of you."

"Do you know everything?" Charlie asked, bewildered.

"It's only a little bit obvious," Claire smirked. Then her smile faded. "Charlie…when you said you wanted to tell me something, what was it?"

Charlie suddenly felt stiff.

"It's nothing, really…" he said, and shrugged. Claire looked disappointed, but didn't say more about it. They each scooted closer together, sharing the view of the stars.

Kate wiped her eyes for a final time. No more tears, she decided firmly. What is done is done.

Something inside her burned for revenge, the same hot anguish she had felt after…after Tom had died. Sydney was gone, and for some reason she felt it was her fault. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she was sure that it was. If she had just turned herself in instead of running…if she had just been braver, Sydney never would have come…Never would have died that way.

She felt she needed someone to talk to, but then again she just wanted to be left alone. Kate sighed, wondering what Jack was doing. If he was thinking about her.

And then, as though her mind had called him, she heard his voice through the jungle.

"Kate? Are you okay?"

"No…she's gone," Kate whispered. "Funeral is tomorrow morning at dawn…"

Jack nodded sadly. He noted that Vaughn was in the corner of the cave, head in his hands, completely and totally silent. He looked back to Kate, who had salty tears running down her pale face.

"It'll…" Jack started to say, "It'll be okay", but he knew that he shouldn't.

"I killed her," Kate whispered, turning away. "It's my fault. If I weren't on the plane…if I'd been braver, then she wouldn't have died, Vaughn wouldn't be miserable…"

Jack put his hand on her chin and gently moved her head back to face him. "Don't say that," he said softly. "This isn't your fault…there was nothing you could've done to stop it."

"Hey." Sawyer stepped up behind them. "Lets end the soap opera, okay?"

"I think what Sawyer is leading up to is that we have found the weapon case," Sayid said quickly, giving the southern man a look. Meanwhile, Kate's heart leapt. Visions of marching into the jungle caring a huge machine gun and blowing the hell out of the fake agents that killed Sydney danced in her mind. It was a pleasant and comforting vision.

"I know that look," Jack said softly. "No one's going out there just yet."

"Why?"

"Because Kate!" Jack sounded irritated and tired. "We need to take a break! We've been at this for days now…I've had patients coming in non-stop – "

"So you're just going to sit on the beach for a few days and wait for the agents to come after us here? Would that make you feel better, Jack?" Kate couldn't stop herself. She stood up quickly and stormed off before the tears came again, no matter how hard she tired to force them back.

Julian Sark came to gradually, feeling as though he had been hit by a bus and left to die on the side of the road – it was that bad. His head was on the ground, his body twisted oddly due to the fact that he was still handcuffed to the tree. He tasted blood in his mouth, and imagined that his skin must be several shades of deep purple, maybe blue.

For a moment, he didn't know where he was, and it sent a shock of fear through him…but he regained control as the memories came flowing back. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the tree, wincing in the pain that it caused.

He must have drifted off to sleep again, because it was considerably lighter than it had been when a rustling of the bushes brought him back to consciousness. The doctor, Jack, walked out, closely followed by that Sawyer and the Iraqi, Sayid.

Sark looked wearily up at them, not sure what to think. Jack shrugged off his black leather backpack, kneeled down, and unzipped it.

"You brought this on yourself, you know that right?"

Sark gave him the worst glare that he could in his current condition.

"I – "

"Don't talk," the doctor said in an annoyingly calm voice, as though they were sitting in a check-up room. "I'll have to take off the handcuffs to clean you up right, and don't even think about trying anything. Even though you probably couldn't make it far – " He looked up at Sayid. "Was all this really necessary?" he asked. Sayid nodded. Sark chose not to say anything, but allowed the doctor to pull off the handcuffs, feeling a rush of relief as blood returned to his hands once again.

The "cleaning up" consisted of the doctor pouring a stinging liquid over some of Sark's deeper gashes, an examination of a cracked rib that was going to give him some grief but should heel – Sawyer laughed when he saw it – and the fitting of a make-shift split around Sark's wrist.

When it was all over, a strained silence fell over the small gathering. Finally, the doctor sighed as he zipped up his backpack. "We're not going to handcuff you and leave you here again," he said. Sark nodded, glaring up at Sawyer, who was grinning at him as though he knew something that he didn't. "Instead…you'll have a watch. You'll have your own personal space, but if you try to – "

"You don't have to spell it out for me, doctor," Sark said darkly as he attempted to stand. Not an easy task. He wobbled so badly he nearly fell, and then regained his feet at the last moment, grimacing as his body protested quite stubbornly.

Jack gave Sayid and Sawyer disapproving looks. He knew that Sark deserved it, but that didn't make him feel any better about seeing the young man trying to stand, after being beaten so horribly.

"Come on, Sark."

Sark lied on the beach, wincing as the pain-killing medicine began to fade.

He looked over his shoulder and saw Jack sitting a while up the beach, staring off into the ocean. Then he realized with a start that someone was sitting almost right next to him. The woman must have noticed he was staring at her, for she turned and smiled.

"Don't mind me," she said vaguely. Sark found it odd that she was not avoiding him like everyone else did.

"Who are you?" he asked, noticing that she was spinning a ring on her necklace over and over again around her fingers.

"The name's Rose," she replied, and then frowned. "What happened to you?"

"Like you don't know."

"As a matter of fact, I don't. I never leave the beach."

Now Sark was interested in spite of himself.

"Why?"

"Oh, I'm just waiting, really…"

"Waiting? For…?"

"My husband," Rose answered, pausing in her ring spinning. "He was in the back of the plane…"

"If he hasn't come by now…" Sark started coldly, but couldn't quite bring himself to be horrible to this woman for some reason.

"He's probably thinking the same thing," Rose said softly. "But I can feel that he's alive."

Sark was silent.

"You seem troubled," she continued. "Are you all right?"

Sark considered this. For the first time since Lauren had been killed, someone was actually being genuinely kind to him. "I…I'm not sure," he admitted cautiously.

Rose smiled softly. "I don't think any of us are."

Charlie lied awake in the cave, thinking. Claire had gone to sleep after nursing Aaron, and almost everyone else was down at the caves. Or asleep, as Charlie wished he could be. But Charlie had always had trouble sleeping…and lying on a bunch of rocks for the fifty-somethingethed day in a row was not helping this. But, as long as he were awake, and it was quiet, he figured he could think.

I could tell her. I should tell her. She didn't freak out last time, Charlie thought, remembering the last moment he'd had with Claire before they were kidnapped.

You prat, he countered himself. She was in labor. She didn't have time to worry about you being a sodding druggie.

Charlie put his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. A breeze swept through the jungle, rustling the leaves. For a second he could have sworn he heard faint whisperings, and then orderly thought faded from his mind and he slipped into an uneasy sleep.

END OF CHAPTER

Lils: I am quivering with excitement right now! This story is so FUN! Please review! If you do you will earn respect, and lemme tell you, that doesn't come by easy these days! (lol) But seriously, please review! We could use your comments, advice, and motivation.

Jaye: That and it makes us feel special… So pleeeease review! And Lils is right: this story is SOOO fun to write, and we just love making you readers jump…or throw something at the computer because we leave you off like we did last chapter. (Fwa) See y'all later! URG, you—all! Two words, Jaye, you are not a redneck yet! (smacks herself and grumbles) Only about two months till LOST comes back…YAY!

Lils: ((snickers)) Not a redneck……yet. ((screams as Jaye is no doubt about to apparate inside my house and strangle me for that))