Part II. Recovered
That Shannon had survived at all perplexed Jack, but stranger things had happened, especially since the crash. Still, he didn't count on fate alone to spare lives, so he remained at her side by the bunk bed.
The harsh overhead lighting and the scent from the sterilizing alcohol he used reminded him powerfully of his time as a surgeon at St. Sebastian Hospital, but the complete lack of modern medical technology he needed frustrated him to no end. He could only guess at the extent of her injury and curse himself if he got it wrong.
Meanwhile, he had his limited supplies and had scoured the hatch locating more. He used the syringes Desmond had left behind to transfuse his own blood. He had cephalexin to prevent infection. That was her greatest danger since the bleeding had stopped a while ago and he had removed the bullet and stitched the deep wound with his usual painstaking precision. Then he could only wait….
Several days later, Shannon continued to sleep restlessly under the watchful gaze of Sayid's soulful black eyes. She had repeatedly tangled up and kicked away the thick wool blanket that covered her body. He patiently replaced it each time.
Sayid had lived through his share of tragedy and despair, and firmly believed he was a stronger man because of it. He had hoped to protect Shannon from it. Instinct told him she had lived through her fair share of it already, and it was obvious she was as troubled by her past as he was by his.
They were two souls haunted by their own consciences, not merely by the ghost of Walt.
This revelation only brought him more guilt. Perhaps if he had listened to her rationally about her vision in the first place instead of allowing her to feel she carried the burden of finding the boy alone. He could have at least spent that precious time at peace with her, learning more of her rather than arguing with her.
There was so much he did not know about her, and she about him.
When had this woman transformed from a total stranger on a plane, to an ally, to a friend, to a lover, and perhaps even something more? How was it possible to pinpoint those exact moments in such a short period of time? Sayid wondered.
Everything had happened so quickly since the crash. Nothing seemed real at times, yet everything seemed to be of so much greater consequence and deeper meaning. It was as though they no longer existed in real time, rendering it nearly impossible to compare their current lives to their previous ones. They had been thrown together in their own separate universe – or deserted island in the very least, he thought wryly.
Sayid was uncertain where he stood exactly on the argument between fate and coincidence, but his mind was rational and capable so he would attempt to make the best of the situation in order to survive – and perhaps someday feel whole and happy.
As if on cue, his thoughts returned to Shannon.
Her eyes fluttered open drowsily and she shivered without her blanket. "Sayid – I'm cold."