Disclaimer: Lost isn't mine, I only own the characters you meet. Enjoy, and have a nice day.

A/N: I'm really sorry this took so long to update—I've had this writer's block like you wouldn't believe. :(

Reviewer responses:

gandalf –dumbledore –obi-wan: Yay! Thanks for your nice review! Sniffle, sniffle…you love me:D (Just, not like that. Lol)

The next morning, everybody carefully unfolded themselves from the soggy mess that had been created by nature's nighttime bath. The girls, however, seemed the only ones willing to comment on their new situation. The adults, and Sean, only surveyed the mess quietly.

I'm wet, Alicia signed distastefully to Christine.

Christine looked at her, as if she were saying "No duh." Wisely, though, she refrained from any response that may have caused any type of sibling revenge. Instead, she smiled (a bit forcedly in Jeanie's opinion) and said I am too.

"C'mon," Jeanie took charge once again, as she picked herself up off the ground and then reached down for Sean, the only one who had managed to seep that night—a miracle, in Jeanie's opinion.

He blearily blinked his eyes and cooed happily, when he saw his Mama. 'hey baby," she said softly, "I'm glad to see you too." She planted a kiss on his head, then straightened. "OK, everybody," she ordered, her soft and motherly behavior instantly replaced with a demeanor similar to that of a military dictator, "outside. We need to dry out and find out what's happening and who's here."

Obediently, the other four shuffled out after their new self-appointed leader, and into the bright sunlight. Gone were the ominous clouds of last night, leaving behind standing pools of waters as the only memory of its vicious visit the night before.

Jeanie appointed Christine and Alicia with the task of watching Sean, and Nancy volunteered to watch the three, despite Jeanie's reassurances that they were quite responsible and could handle their little brother just fine. Fred assumed the responsibility of helping Jeanie pull their makeshift tent down and to talk to some of the other survivors to see if anyone had supplies or ideas on how to make a better shelter.

The first person Jeanie ran into was an older gentleman, in his early to mid fifties. He was staring into the distance, rubbing his left ring finger. Jeanie was rather hesitant about disrupting his reverie, but finally decided that it would be in the best interest for all of them to keep their minds focused on survival till rescue could come.

"Excuse me, Sir?" she tapped him gently on the shoulder, "are you all right?" After several moment's pause, he turned slightly toward her; his unfocused eyes, which made her rather uncomfortable, refocused on her face. "Yes," he told her, "physically I'm fine, but…" he exhaled shakily and looked down at his left ring finger again. Now that Jeanie was closer, she could see the marks of a now absent band. He looked up at Jeanie again and smiled slightly. "My fingers always swell up, something awful, when I fly. So, my wife—Rose—holds on to my wedding band when we fly. I was in the bathrooms when the plane crashed…she was in the back, on the half that broke off."

'I'm sorry for your loss," Jeanie apologized to him.

His back straightened. "Loss?" he scoffed, "Loss? No. You know, the key to relationships is faith. You have to believe that there's something greater keeping your relationship and those you love alive. I can feel it…she's still alive. I don't know where she is, but she's all right."

Jeanie smile bitterly—she envied his confidence, but she knew better than to hang on to a bare hope that was nearly gone. Even when all was chance was gone without a trace, and human nature said to keep believing, it was still hopeless. But she didn't want to tell the distraught man that. "well, sir, I hope for your sake, you're right. In the mean time, however, would you mind helping to assemble a task force, if you will? We're going to need more supplies: Nancy—she was on the flight crew—says that it's doubtful a search party will come this way for several days—we were rather far off course, apparently.

He nodded. "I'd be glad to help. What would you like me to do?"

"If you wouldn't mind, she said, talking to some people, try to get as many as you can who could assist in our reconnaissance mission.

He nodded, "I'll see what I can do." He stuck out his hand, "by the way, I'm Nick."

"Jeanie smiled, "I'm Jeanie. Pleased to meet you."

Several hours later, a group of nine people had assembled near the edge of the forest. There were five men—Including Nick and Fred. They introduced themselves as Robert, Luke, Adam, and will. Only two women had joined Jeanie, though. The were Erica, Adams wife, and Mandie.

"Okay, people," Fred took over control of the group," Here's the deal: none of us know how long we're going to be here—it could be a day, it could be a week. But we need to be prepared for anything that comes our way. Also, we have no idea where we are, how large this island—if it even is an island—is, or what kind of creatures live here. Be careful, keep your heads, and stick together. We're going back to the plane for supplies, bring back anything that has even the most remote chance of being useful. Leg's go."

As Jeanie walked, she found herself next to a talkative older woman,—Erica was her name, Jeanie believed. Apparently she and her husband, Adam, the quit man walking next to them, had been headed for Texas. It seemed their daughter, Lisa, as expecting, and they wanted to be present for the birth of their first Grandchild. Personally, Jeanie pitied the poor girl—it had to be difficult, having such a…extrovert for a mother. Erica continued, "I do hope we can make it back in time," she fretted.

Jeanie forced a smile, albeit it appeared slightly strained, even to the most inexperienced smile reader, onto her face. "I'm sure we'll get rescued before then," she reassured the woman, wishing she could will her into silence.

He wish was not granted, however, and for the remainder of their hike, the only noise Jeanie could hear was Erica's loud chatter. Jeanie tried, unsuccessfully, to tune her out, and she turned her own thoughts to those of her family.

A/N: I refuse to offer any promise, though I will tell you this: I have two sentences for the next chapter finished! lol So please review, and maybe my muse, Aldamar, will start talking to me again and I can write some more for the story! Sound good? Good. Review. lol