A/N: I was told in an e-mail that the first chapter was very sad. The second chapter is to ease some of this angst. I do plan on continuting this, and am in the process of writing chapter three now. Please read and review.
Stranded
Chapter Two: Ellen Sharp-Sloan
The surf was amazing as it hit the shore, sending sprays yards up onto the beach. It looked so cool and refreshing, and Ellen found it hard to believe that just yesterday they had been flying above the ocean, not sitting on a sunny, sandy, deserted island. The others were starting to get antsy. Why hadn't they been rescued yet? The question buzzed throughout the crowd.
But Ellen was quite comfortable on the beach; after all, she did live on one. She stretched out on the sand, letting the sun's rays hit her body. After all that she'd been through in the past year, Ellen figured that she deserved a break.
Steve smiled at her as he passed. He and three others were headed towards the airplane to try and find some food. But his destination was not what caught her attention. It was the smile. She had seen it before, on other occasions where Steve did not want her to know something.
This enraged Ellen, and she quickly got up to follow. She hated it when Steve got the better of her.
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"Guess there's nothing left to say." Ellen turned and walked away from Steve, and towards her new job at The Chicago Outlook
"Except I love you," Steve called. "And I was hoping you'd consider marrying me. I wouldn't want to do anything to stand in the way of your career."
Ellen turned around slowly.
"What'd you say?" she asked.
"I wouldn't want to do anything to, uh, stand in the way of your career."
"Before that," Ellen steered.
"Nothing," Steve said quickly.
"Yeah, I think there was something," Ellen alleged.
"I don't think so. I don't remember anything," he teased.
"You said 'I love you'," Ellen repeated.
"I don't think so. I think I'd remember if I said that."
"'And I was hoping you'd consider marrying me,'" she quoted.
"You were?" Steve asked.
"No, you were."
"Yes. Yes I was. I love you."
"I love you too," Ellen said, putting her arms around Steve's neck as they shared a passionate kiss.
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"What's going on?" Ellen said, catching up to her husband.
"What are you talking about?" Steve asked.
"Don't look at me like that. I've been seeing through that fake grin for a long time now." He shook his head and continued on past her. "Steve!" Ellen took his arm and stopped him. "Please tell me. There's no newspaper here. I can't tell the Scoop."
Steve waved the others on, and pulled Ellen aside. He told her calmly what they had learned from the co-pilot.
"Now do you see why I didn't want to say anything? If this gets out we're going to have a mass panic," Steve said. "And that is the very last thing we need now." Then he heard words that he had never even hoped his wife would say.
"You're absolutely right. We need to think this through," Ellen said thoughtfully. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Come on," Steve said with a smile. They walked back towards the airplane, hand in hand.
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"I do," Steve had said strongly. A few minutes later Ellen's grin had widened as the reverend gave Steve permission to kiss the bride.
Now, three months after the wedding, Ellen's body was beginning to show signs of the baby growing inside of her. She stood in front of the mirror in the bedroom and pulled her shirt up over her tummy. Ellen knew that there was nothing to see, but she pressed her hand against her skin nonetheless, smiling brightly at her reflection.
"What are you doing?" a voice called from the doorway. Ellen didn't answer her husband; she only yanked down her shirt and sank onto the edge of the bed. "Ellen?" Steve came and knelt beside her on the floor.
"Steve," she said, tears of joy stinging the corners of her eyes. "I'm pregnant."
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The hot sun finally went down on the horizon. The survivors of the crash had begun to make themselves some vague shelters, but hopes of being rescued soon still soared high. Steve, being the big, strong, protective cop that he was, had already put up a tarp and found a sleeping bag for Ellen. She smiled at him when he brought her a frozen dinner from the plane that had been heated up over flames.
"How are you holding up?" Steve asked, sitting down beside his wife.
"A little better," Ellen said. "I just wish we could get in touch with your dad."
"I'm glad that Amanda and Jesse are there. This might kill him, especially when he finds out the baby wasn't on the plane."
"And you know that he will," Ellen added. "He has so many connections and friends. He must know someone in the airline business."
"Ellen," Steve said quietly. "I love you."
She leaned into his shoulder and let him hold her as she drifted off to sleep.
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After Michael had died, Ellen just felt numb. She didn't notice that Steve was leading her away from the hospital, and when he tucked her into bed, like a small child. But then Steve climbed in beside her and they clung to each other as it life now depended on it.
The next morning Steve left her alone while he went to the hospital to make a few arrangements. Ellen sat up in the bed, hugging her knees close to her. Anger started to swell inside her. To avoid thinking about it, Ellen decided to pack her bag for their flight that afternoon. She put all of her belongings into her suitcase; clothes, a picture of her with Mark, Steve, Amanda, Jesse, and Alex, and her makeup and other toiletries. She picked up a shoe. It was a black pump. She threw it across the room, and it hit the wall, falling to the ground with a loud CLUNK!
Something about the expelled force made Ellen feel slightly better as she picked up the bag's other contents.
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Hope Szalinski's cries pierced the night. She orphaned baby had been passed from stranger to stranger all that day, and now no one wanted to watch her over night. Ellen stood in the darkness, and watched Hope from the shadows. She slowly crept forward, until she was almost next to the baby's make-shift cradle.
"It's okay," she whispered soothingly. "It's okay Hope." Ellen reached out her hand and touched the baby's creamy white cheek. She seemed somewhat comforted, and fell back into slumber. Ellen stumbled through the darkness next to the place where Steve was laying.
"Where were you?" he asked groggily.
"Little girl's tree," Ellen lied. She dropped slowly back to the ground, snuggling into Steve's shoulder as she had every night since they had lost little Michael. He put an arm around her, and pulled a blanket around them both to protect them from the night chill.
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Ellen stood above the empty bag, the contents of which were now strewn across the hotel bedroom floor. She had been so frustrated. Why? Why was this happening to her? To Steve?
The door to the room opened, and Steve saw his wife, sitting on the floor, sobbing. Without a word he sank down beside her and pulled her onto his lap. As Ellen fell asleep in his arms, Steve began to feel very drowsy himself. He awoke with a start. His body was sore and stiff, but Ellen slowly smiled up at him, tremblingly, temporarily clamed.
Well at least she got some rest, Steve thought. After they shared a kiss, Steve glanced up at the clock on the nightstand. It read 6:45.
"Our flight leaves at eight," he whispered, stroking Ellen's back. They involuntarily stood and slowly gathered Ellen's things, preparing to leave.
"Flight 314, Tokyo to Los Angeles, now boarding all rows," a stewardess called over the loudspeaker. Ellen stood from the uncomfortable plastic chair in the terminal. Her black shirt flowed loosely around her knees as she and Steve went to turn in their tickets.
As they entered the jet way, Steve took Ellen's hand in his and squeezed it. This was it. It was time to go home, a place that Ellen dreaded very much.
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"I can't do this anymore," Blayr, the young woman who was pregnant, said, resting a hand on her large stomach. "I really don't want to complain, but I'm too tired with my own baby to take good care of her too."
Joyce looked sadly at Steve. Although they had not meant for it to happen, everyone was looking up to the two of them, asking their advice on everything. The situation with Hope was growing worse. No one was both willing and capable of keep the baby safe and fed. Steve shook his head.
"Give her to me," Joyce said. She already had enough on her hands, with the wounded people in the triage, and the people on the beach who were constantly hammering her with questions brought on by their paranoia, but being a gynecologist, she would find caring for the child less difficult that the others would.
"I'll take her." Ellen's voice called from the back of the group. Steve turned to her.
"Are you absolutely sure?" he asked, thinking of all that she had been through. Ellen nodded emphatically.
"Steve I need this," she said. "My maternal instincts are crying out to be fulfilled, and Hope is a baby that needs a mother. There is no better candidate for the job than me."
"I just want you to be happy," Steve said. Ellen smiled vaguely at him and walked up to Joyce. She gently took the baby from her arms. Steve got a couple of men to move Hope's bed to their campsite. Ellen carried Hope to a large, flat rock and sat, rocking her slowly back and forth. As the baby drifted off, Ellen was alone, and she had plenty of time to think.
The pain she had felt when she lost Michael was indescribable, and she was sure that Steve felt the same way. And although Hope would never replace her son, as she cuddled the tiny girl, Ellen felt oddly at peace.